#i say as i proceed to wallow in self loathing

[angelbvn]

@ the anons

y'all down bad huh

*shrug* i suppose! i am 2 be adored :3

[twistmusings]

Happy holidays Mod Azul!! :) May I request Octavinelle and what they do after a fight with their s/o? Thank you and I hope ur having a wonderful break!

How does Octavinelle handle a fight with their s/o?

Note: I kind of also get into how they fight in general. Darker and less chipper than my normal writing so please proceed carefully!

CW: Angst, this operates on the assumption that it was a pretty serious fight, mentions of bad mental health and poor coping (Floyd), mentions of physical abuse (no abuse actually occurs, Floyd just scares himself with the thought in Floyd and Jade's parts), Jade Leech is toxic and manipulative (he ends up in every one of these warnings, no one is surprised), mentions of a breakup (but unconfirmed if it happens or not), they ALL suck at communicating.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is incredibly shaken up, but unlike when he was a child, he manages to hold himself together much better than he used to.

Azul is definitely the first one to walk away from the argument-- not everything he used to do is gone. He still has the tendency to go and hide even if it's in a less literal sense. He needs the time to lick his wounds and the the distance to think clearly.

The moment he is alone and he's fully confident that he won't be bothered, he absolutely breaks down. He ugly cries and wallows for at least ten to fifteen minutes, and then once that's out of his system he can actually start thinking about things clearly.

Azul, being the kind of person he is, always chooses his words exceedingly carefully. He has trained himself not to say things that someone can leverage against him. Regardless of the fact that it was an argument, he's doesn't say things he regrets. That means, unfortunately, any painful things that come out during said argument are his whole, honest thoughts.

He needs to be away from the situation to plan. Azul never approaches a situation with anything but utmost caution and consideration. He has probably thought through thousands of scenarios about how to approach them about the argument before he actually does it.

It can make him seem a little cold, honestly, because from their perspective, it must seem like he's very unaffected. That couldn't be further from the case, though, when he steps back he's trying to find a solution or compromise that will be considerate for both of them. That being said, it's not something he discusses with them before he proposes it, so it all depends on the partner whether that escalates their fight or not.

Floyd Leech

Floyd's emotions escalate quickly. The moment they start arguing, his filter drops entirely. He definitely falls a bit into the trap of tossing barbs he knows are low blows, and will regret it later.

Floyd would never do anything to hurt them, but at the same time, he's incredibly afraid that somewhere in him there's the capacity for it. He creates physical distance from them and does not want to be in touching-distance because he scares himself. If his emotions are a mystery to everyone else, they're about a thousand times more confusing to him and the thought that he can't predict himself is something that he worries about. Truthfully, Floyd doesn't give himself enough credit in this regard: he wouldn't ever hurt them intentionally, he doesn't have the capacity to hurt someone he cares about that much.

Floyd himself would admit to being a coward-- the moment he sees an opening to escape the conversation he's leaping at it, even if it ends up making things worse.

He spends the next several hours to several days sulking, just depending on the severity of the fight. He tends to just... avoid, rather than to confront his partner, so the chances of him coming to seek a resolution on his own are nearly zero. If anyone is going to intervene, it's either going to be his partner, his brother, or Azul on his behalf.

Self loathing. A lot of self loathing. He has a certain baseline for kinda hating himself normally, and it sometimes fluctuates one way or the other. After an argument, though? It's off the charts. He upsets himself with some of the things he knows he said to them which makes his mood worse which makes him continue to beat himself up. It's a self-sustaining cycle.

Jade Leech

Jade is probably the worst of the three. Arguing with Jade is pretty rare because he's usually pretty amicable and agreeable so long as things are going in a way that he can see being entertaining and beneficial to him. The moment that switch is flipped, though, Jade is outright brutal.

Where to begin, honestly. He's a nightmare. The moment the tension with his partner snaps and they start arguing with him, they've just secured a ticket to one hell of a guilt trip. Jade loves them, but with the way he knows how precisely which buttons to press to escalate the argument you wouldn't guess it.

Jade knows they aren't stupid, so while he says a lot, he leaves plenty unsaid that they can fill in the gaps of, and when they do it will more than likely make them feel terrible.

Where Azul and Floyd know when to back down, Jade does not. He will stick out the argument until one of two things happen: his partner walks out or he is asked/told to leave. And if they ask him to leave, he's going to make them feel terrible for it. He won't tell them where he's going or even text them after the fact-- it will be entirely up to them to find him first.

Jade really doesn't suffer with sitting in uncomfortable feelings the way that Azul and Floyd do. Sure, he loves them and it sucks to argue, but he's not nearly as uncomfortable in that tense environment as they are. It happened, what's done is done, and now he has to deal with the consequences of his actions. It is what it is, and if that means that his partner breaks things off with him, he understands that's perfectly within their right. He truly wouldn't blame them.

An area where Jade and Floyd are sort of similar and sort of different in one area: they both avoid fights with their partners because they are afraid of hurting them. The big difference is, though, that while Floyd is afraid of hurting them physically, he would never actually be capable of doing it. Jade isn't afraid of hurting them physically, but is deeply aware he can and has hurt them emotionally because it was (at least partially) intentional. It's not a trait he's proud of and he will try to work on it in time, but that's not going to make the actions he does before any more excusable.

Jade kind of traps himself. After the dust has settled and he realizes what he's done, by that point he's pretty certain that he should give them the space they need to parse their emotions and figure out their feelings toward him. However, since he doesn't know how long that will take and he doesn't want to backslide and escalate the argument further accidentally by stepping in too soon, he ends up just waiting for them to come to him first. He also would need his partner, his brother, or Azul to intervene before he would address the situation.

[ensnapemysenses]

Could you write headcanons about lucius after the war the ministry decide to make him live as a muggle as a punishment and put him with reader a muggle born and it’s just how he has to live without magic and grows a soft spot for the reader

Lucius would despise having to live life without the use of magic and he would loathe having to live under the same roof as a muggle as he would view you as lower than him. 

Muggle clothing just feels wrong to him and he insists on parading around in his wizard robes until they ‘magically’ go missing one day to only be replaced by a whole wardrobe of muggle clothes. He is pissed off at first but after a while, he starts to like wearing jeans (though he would never admit it).

He would make you do all of the housework/cooking and treat you pretty much like a house elf at first until you eventually lose your shit and blow up on him and force him to pitch in around the house.

“Be a dear and do my laundry and tidy up the house,” Lucius demands with a wave of his hand without looking up from the book he is buried in.

“No. Everything messy right now is because of you! I will clean my shit up, you got to clean up after yourself! I am not your house elf!”

“How dare you defy my orders! I should have you tortured for such an act.”

“Well seeing as how you cannot do magic anymore, I’d like to see you try. You wouldn’t wanna get those delicate hands of yours dirty with my blood, now would you?”

Lucius scowls at you as he throws his laundry in the washer, his eyes further narrowed into slits as he shoots you glances while he is dusting the coffee table.

“I have an idea! Let’s get you a maid outfit to wear oh mighty Lord Lucius!” you chuckle with a dramatic bow.

Lucius throws the cleaning supplies at you and you duck out of the way to avoid being hit. “I’m done with your degradation of me! I’ll be in my room wallowing in self-pity and cursing the gods for letting such a heinous thing happen to me. Don’t come looking for me!”

Lucius stomps off and a few moments later you hear the door to his bedroom slam shut. Smiling to yourself, you prop your feet up on the coffee table he just cleaned and proceed to watch some television in peace.

Once Lucius starts carrying his weight around the house, he starts to gain an appreciation for magic that he didn’t have before, recognizing that it is a huge advantage and it makes everything much simpler. While he recognizes this fact, he finds that he kind of enjoys learning how to do things the muggle way from you as it gives him an excuse to spend more time in your presence.

Since he is from an extremely wealthy pureblood supremacy family he doesn’t know how to do much of anything without magic as such acts were looked down upon by his family. He was never taught how to live without magic and he always had house elves who did all the chores for him.

Lucius pops his head out from the doorway of the kitchen. “Hey, (Y/N),” he shouts. “How do I put out a fire? I burnt some food on the stove!”

“You what!!” you screech as you come running into the kitchen to a pot with rolling flames in it. The heat waves and stench of burning food hit you as you enter the room. “Oh my god, Lucius! Find the lid for the pot and put it on! It’ll extinguish the fire!”

“Can you help me for a moment?”

“Sure. What do you need help with?”

“How do you work the phone? I’m really curious about this muggle contraption.” “You just push the number buttons in the order of the person's phone number and hold it up to your ear. When they pick up just speak normally into the phone and they can hear you and you'll hear them speaking back.”

“How… interesting,” he drawls as he proceeds to dial random numbers for the rest of the day.

Lucius does eventually apologizes for his treatment of you when he was first sentenced to his punishment and he promises to do better from here on out. 

Needless to say, it’s a bit of a learning curve for Lucius but he learns quickly how to live as a muggle and he is very thankful you are there to teach him and guide him in all he needs to know.

[girlmeetsliv3]

Prince of Nothing III

~ Part Three of Five ~

Release Date: July 17,2020 @ 12 a.m. (GMT-4)

Word Count: 6,646

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything except for you…

Jeon Jungkook was the prince of everything: heaven, hell, and everything in between. His family was an enigma who came to power under mysterious circumstances and had managed to retain hold over the kingdom for centuries - even if no one knew how. There was one thing that Jungkook wanted though, something that could never be his: you. A nobody. A girl with no title. No land. Just money and a pure soul to your name. Jeon Jungkook would’ve never spared a look your way, had that incident not occurred. Now you find yourself the target of his affection and the most hated woman in all the land. Which will kill you first?

Trigger Warning: Some of the contents in this story may not be suitable for all audiences. These include toxic relationships, manipulation, gore and various forms of abuse as well as rationalization of said abuse. This is a work of fiction and doesn’t represent the character of bangtan sonyeondan. Enjoy ~~~

           A small part of Yoongi trembles at the sight of the light blue house just a few feet away. It had been several weeks since he’d been there and it took all of his self-control, and a bit more, to stay away. It was his safe space. Somewhere he felt incredibly safe and after the guilt threatened to eat him alive Yoongi needed a break. Needed his songbird to take away his pain even if it was momentarily. The driver opened the car door, allowing him to step out. His saunter was light, feet barely touching the ground, even though he desired nothing more than to break into a sprint. Min Yoongi must always maintain an air of pacificity and general aloofness. Emotions were a weakness and now that the prince was aware of his, Yoongi had to proceed with caution.

           “Welcome home, Master.”

           “Where is he?”

           Yoongi wasted no time with pleasantries. His cat-like eyes darted around every corner of the room attempting to find any trace of his beloved. “He’s in the garden master. He hasn’t eaten much since your departure.” Yoongi sighed, heading towards the back porch. There were many places that his songbird was allowed to be inside the manor, but he always preferred the garden. It was the only piece of the outside world he was entitled to see, Yoongi had told him it was for his protection. Even if they both knew it was a lie.

           As he turned the corner he suddenly stopped, from where he stood he could see the porch in all its entirety. The glass that encased it allowed for one to view the beauty of the outside world without being exposed to the harshness the elements may bring. It was a beautiful day, the setting sun filtered through the glass creating prisms of rainbows which danced around the room but what shined brightly was him: draped longingly across the plush blue velvet chaise. The tan of his skin glowed effortlessly and Yoongi always found himself admiring it. When he wasn’t admiring the pillowy lips, sharp eyes, and rounded bottom that is.

           “Songbird?” The man in question paid him no mind, despite Yoongi knowing he'd been heard. Slowly he approached him, his songbird was delicate yet ferocious. Life had forced him to live on extremes to survive and though Yoongi wished he could say that all of this had changed since being in his care - it had only worsened.  

“I thought you would’ve replaced me by now. Seeing as you have found yourself a new toy.” There was an edge to the man’s tone, the words almost withered at the end.

Yoongi rushed towards him, his strong arms cradling his fragile lover, as he tried to calm his fears. “No, my love. That wasn’t for me. It was a favor I did for the prince.” His songbird stilled in his arms, he had only met the prince once in his life but it was enough to instill fear in him forever. A repressed memory of blood and screams flashing in front of the young man’s eyes. Yoongi didn’t understand why his lover struggled to get out of his hold.

“J-”

“So you’ve condemned someone else to suffer the same fate as I have?!" There it was the rage in his eyes. Yoongi shakes his head ready to defend himself, but his love doesn't buy it. "Why else would a Jeon be interested in a commoner?!" Despite all his efforts, Yoongi managed to maneuver the man back into his arms. Yoongi felt fire travel through his veins, vexed at how his beloved behaved.

“Don’t speak as if you are a prisoner. I have given you the world.”

“In return, you’ve locked me away in a cage, so that your songbird may only sing for you.”

Yoongi scoffs, shoving his songbird off him and standing up. "If you don't want me then, I'll leave. Wallow in your self-pity by yourself." Before Yoongi could take even a step away, the younger man had grabbed hold of his wrist. It was several seconds of tense silence before he finally spoke. "I've longed for you so much. Please don't leave me alone again." Just like that his songbird was broken once again, unable to sing. Tenderly, Yoongi placed his hands on either side of his lover's cheeks, cupping them gently as he leaned in closer. Their kiss was superficial, one-sided, but it didn't mean it wasn't passionate. Even if one side was fulled by love and the other by loathing.

YN ran through the long-winded corridors attempting to find a way out. She had been running for several minutes now and knew that she couldn’t be too far off from a staircase or the servant’s quarters, but her surroundings remained the same. It felt as if she was running in place. As if the castle itself was determined to not let her escape. Eventually, YN’s body grew depleted and she rested against the wall, listening intently for either guards or her captor to come to find her. It was the rhythmic clicking of heels that alerted her that someone was near. Vito, who had been comfortably resting upon YN’s forearm trailed up her body, wrapping across her neck and dangling down: ready to attack.

Jungkook had given YN a weapon, one that wouldn’t attack him, but wouldn’t hesitate to defend her. It caused her to worry, it meant that the prince was certain he was not the only threat to her safety. It seems there were those who were bigger and worse than him - or liked to pretend they were. Mistress Eun rounded the corner, her flamboyant yellow dress caused her to stick out like a sore thumb. It had been weeks since YN had seen the woman responsible for her brother’s death. If it were up to Eun both of them would be six feet under. Mistress Eun, in a world of her own, didn’t notice YN until they were mere feet apart. Her expression was one of shock before she quickly schooled it, grinning maliciously.

“Well if it isn’t the talk of the town.” Eun’s eyes dragged down YN’s figure and a disgruntled look overcame her face when she noted how YN’s lavish gowns far surpassed hers. “If it isn’t the prince’s whore, look at you effectively climbing up the social ladder. What would your brother say?”

YN didn’t respond, too furious to even attempt too, on the outside though she looked nonchalant and that bothered the older woman. It enraged her. “You really ought to be thanking me, child, if it weren’t for me you would have never met the prince. Likely would’ve died in a pigsty with no one to remember you.” The wrath turned icy cool and YN began to wonder if this is how Jungkook felt at times. She could almost hear him whispering to her: Do it. Hurt her. You know you want to. Mistress Eun stepped closer to YN, face mere inches away from hers as she hurled more insults. “The two of you were rats. Pests. If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t be here so don’t think so highly of yourself. You’re just a plaything to spare his boredom.” YN smirked causing Eun’s blood to boil.

You wouldn’t get caught. It would be so simple. Vito could do it. YN tightened her fists, letting her nails dig into the palms of her hands.

“Then again, had your brother simply accepted to sleep with me and not embarrassed me with his rejection he’d still be alive.” Had Eun known those words would seal her fate, perhaps she’d have been more careful. Though it is unlikely she would have, she was never particularly smart and always brash.

YN’s hands flew around Eun’s throat tightening and squeezing as Vito jumped out aiding her. Do it! Kill her! It was not her voice inside her head, it was not her controlling her movements. Once YN realized that she ripped her hands off Eun's throat, taking Vito with her. By then, however, it was too late. Mistress Eun lay dead on the castle floor. The shock caused YN to remain frozen staring at the hollow eyes that seemed to plead at her. Her haze dropped to her hands where Vito was resting, they were shaking incessantly. Jungkook’s voice was no longer in her head, but YN was certain it wasn’t a delusion. What is going on? Strong arms wrapped around YN’s torso hoisting her up, YN’s reaction was too delayed to have been able to do anything.

It was someone YN had never met, blonde ashen hair stood out against his dark palette. He cast one glance at Eun before his hooded eyes fell upon YN a sense of familiarity in them. “The guards will be here any second. Run straight and turn left, there is a large tapestry attached to the wall. Push against it with all your might, it’s a door. Follow the sound of the cicadas and you’ll make it out.” YN parted her lips to question him, but she heard the distant murmurs of guards. “Take that thing with you.” The stranger looked disparagingly at Vito who hissed back. YN gripped the serpent in her hand and took off, sparing one final glance at the mysterious stranger.

Jungkook held the mouse over Morte’s head, allowing the snake to lunge before quickly moving it away. This continued until the activity eventually grew dull and Jungkook let the dead mouse drop into the snake’s jaw. The young prince rolled over onto his bed, his mind drifting towards YN’s fear-ridden expression when she’d failed at hurting him. Not to mention the look of shock when he’d called her his queen. The girl was full of surprises and was like a drug to Jungkook - strangely addicting. A part of him longed to be near her at all times but knew that wouldn’t be the smartest decision. There were always eyes on Jeon Jungkook, but now there were eyes on YN too and he couldn’t risk it. Not if he wanted his plan to work.

Morte stilled beside him alerting Jungkook to the potential danger. Jungkook lifts himself from his bed, looking towards the door. Awaiting the knock that was sure to come, Jungkook wondered who would be so audacious as to bother him in his bed chambers. They were likely more reckless than bold. "Come in." Jungkook mumbles, seconds later Seo Kangjoon is greeting him. Jungkook supposes he should have known it wouldn't be long before the Seo’s came to force his hand. It aggravated him to no end that they thought he would simply bend over to their will. The Seo’s held power: their family was the head of agriculture in the land. The crown needed them for crops and they were very popular, along with the peasantry, seen as beautiful yet polite people. What a fucking joke. Jungkook saw through their facade, much like everyone else the Seo’s were desperate for more power. Becoming part of the royal family would provide that in unprecedented amounts.

“To what do I owe the pressure of having the Kangjoon in my bedroom unannounced? Hoping for a repeat of that night?” Jungkook smirked, seeing Kangjoon visibly tense. The prairie’s golden boy had too much to drink during his bachelor’s night and Jungkook was there to witness his true depravity. Kangjoon shook his head, “Would you have accepted my requests to see you had I done so officially, your highness?” It annoyed the prince to no end how Seo refused to play along. Kangjoon wasn’t as smart as Soojin, not by any means, but it was his sex that determined he be the heir. Even if Soojin was destined to rule. Though Kangjoon’s intelligence lay in his practicality - which is why he always refused to engage in mind games with the prince. He knew he’d lose.

“I am here to warn you.” Oh? "I have a meeting with the king to discuss your marriage with my cousin. We don't wish to force the hand of a future family member, but given the recent developments, we are quite embarrassed. I hope you understand." Kangjoon bowed deeply, excusing himself before heading towards the King's corridors. Jungkook gazed out towards his spot, his hand lashed out gripping the canopy of his bed and in one swift move, it crushed in his hand. It almost landed on his snake had Morte not had fast reflexes. Jungkook left the room searching for his beloved fiance.  

           Soojin had never looked worse. The purple welts around her neck were too small and thin to have been caused by human hands leading Jungkook to assume it had been Vito who’d done the damage and not YN. Still, Soojin’s usually perfect hair was a tangled mess that darted in every direction and her almond eyes were puffy and red around the edges. The second she saw Jungkook she let him know who was to blame, “She did this to me.” Jungkook didn’t answer simply kissing her forehead gently, Soojin leaned into his embrace. Soojin places her head in the crook of the prince’s neck closing her eyes. Her neck ached painfully, but she had refused any more medication not wanting to see the pitying look of the palace’s healer.

           “Your cousin is here to speak to my father about our wedding.”

           Soojin stills, raising her head cautiously. She recognizes the edge in Jungkook’s tone. “I’m sorry. It isn’t him, but my mother who insists we be wed. I told her about the king, but-”

           “Shush.” Jungkook smiled tenderly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Soojin frowned, confused by his words, Jungkook hated being told what to do. Undermining him to go see his father would have definite consequences. “In fact, I think they’re right.” Soojin pulled away from Jungkook, needing space to properly comprehend what he was saying.

           Jungkook smiles, dimples on show, “Let’s get married.”

           YN had been walking for hours, it had been evening when YN had escaped but something told her it was nearing dawn. The corridors were cold and damp, unlike the rest of the palace they looked incredibly old. A testament to its legacy. The cold had been too much for Vito who was now nestled inside YN’s bosom, needing heat to survive. Being unable to properly see anything in front of her due to the darkness, it made her footing sloppy. So, when she stepped on a loose stone and twisted her ankle she went down with great force. “Fuck.” It was then that YN began to wonder if she would die inside the castle walls. Her body withering away until nothing, but a corpse remained. Would she join her brother? Or had her actions led to her having a reserved space in hell? YN was somewhat surprised Jungkook hadn’t found her yet but was also terrified that her thoughts seemed to always go to him.

           It was as if she was under a spell. Though it was certain that Jungkook had found a way to bind Vito to her, she didn't want to focus on how she questioned if the prince had done the same thing to them. Before with Eun, she had not been herself. As if someone were coercing her into doing said things. YN trembled with fear if Jungkook could coerce her into murder then what else could he have her do?

           “He’s a menace!”

           Her head snapped left as she heard more yells and strange noises. YN pushed herself up from the ground with the little strength that remained and walked towards them. Soon enough, YN saw a light, getting closer; she saw what looked like a window peering into the room. Upon closer inspection, it was a mirror that looked into someone’s private office though who YN couldn’t decipher. Not until the figure emerged from the corner babbling to himself in an incoherent way that explained his state of mind. “Jungkook has been a murderer since the day he was born and will lead this kingdom to ruin if I don’t stop him!” YN’s hands flew up to her mouth to stop the gasp. YN had heard much about King Jeon the II growing up, the man was ferocious in the way only a Jeon could be. Still, he paled in comparison to Jeon the I, and that meant the war and social injustices that had long plagued the kingdom ended during his reign, or so it seemed.

           YN couldn’t see all of him now, his back was towards her as the King faced a portrait hanging on the wall. Nonetheless, she could recognize the familiar slope of his shoulders and rigid posture as something his son had inherited. Yes, Jungkook was very much his father but managed to surpass him at a young age in just about every aspect. Even the love of his people. For that, it was said the king would always despise him but the real reason lay in the portrait he spoke to. No one knew much about the late Queen only that she was effortlessly beautiful and seeing her portrait YN couldn’t agree more. She held a softness to her that contrasted greatly with her husband and son, though if YN looked deeper she could see Jungkook had parts of her too.

Jeon muttered to himself once more and it dawned on YN that he was speaking to the portrait. "You're right my love. If I do it the people will turn against me, but if we blame the Kim girl…" YN's eyes widened, she stepped back, her back hitting the stone wall behind her. At that moment, Jeon freezes as if aware he's being watched. "Come out." The king speaks lowly, all the anguish has gone from his voice. In a split second, he draws a dagger from his clothes and sends it hurtling toward its target. But instead of the mirror, it is the door. YN doesn't waste the opportunity and flees once more.  

"Mistress Eun was found dead last night. Similar attack to the one that occurred to the princess, Miss YN is nowhere to be found." Baekhyung announces loudly, his back bent at a ninety-degree angle to not offend the crown prince. Jungkooks nods, wiping his hands free of blood before returning to the book on his desk. Baekhyung grimaces slightly at the sight before him, knowing it’ll be him cleaning up the mess as the maids won’t go near the body. “Make sure to find her Baekhyung and bring her back to me.” Jungkook picks up the book leaning back in his chair, the title ‘Golden Ones’ had always drawn the guards attention but he knew to ponder any further would get him killed.

           “What is the official story, your highness?”

           Jungkook cast one final glance at Kangjoon’s corpse, it was a bloody mess with the heart ripped out and blood still oozing. The prince would have to replace his favorite carpet. “The king was so upset with having his hand forced about the Seo matter that he lost it and killed their last male heir. What a tragedy.” Baekhyung nods, before tilting his head towards Jinyoung who sighed under his breath and helped him carry the body out.

By the time YN had managed to escape dawn had broken and the sky was a pleasant mix of oranges, pinks, and purples all blended. Perhaps it had been the fact that YN had remained surrounded by darkness all night, that it had been so long since she had felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and the beauty of nature surrounding her that caused YN to stop. Vito was still asleep, YN felt exhaustion spread throughout her body. She began to sway from one side to the next and knew it wouldn’t be long until she collapsed. YN forced herself to continue forward, attempting to reach the edge of the forest before anyone caught her. The more distance she traveled the farther away the forest seemed. YN wasn’t sure if her perception was muddled or there was something else at play here.

It wouldn't matter anyway for the prince's guard hounds were on her tail. "You there! What do you think you're doing?!" YN let out a sigh of frustration. Every damn time. YN watched a large man with dark hair and thick eyebrows approach her, a bit of tension leaving her body when she realized he must have been a regular guard and not part of the knighthood. “I’m sorry, I was visiting my sister in the servant’s quarters when I got lost.” YN couldn’t think of anything more convincing but figured something complex wouldn’t work well in her case. The guard’s eyes narrowed, “As if I’m going to believe that. You look like a common whore, probably hoping to snag some nobleman, huh?”

The guard gripped her tightly pulling her close so that their bodies were touching. Almost instantaneously, the man fell to his knees back twisting painfully as he groaned out in pain. “I would refrain from touching what isn’t yours.” YN recognized the voice and turned around to see Jinyoung accompanied by another man dressed in similar attire. “The prince wouldn’t appreciate knowing some lowlife dirtied his favorite toy.” YN’s face scrunched up in disgust at Jinyoung’s words, she began to wonder whether she could escape the men but it seems they were onto her.

“Miss YN, the prince has been searching for you all night. He requests your presence.” The shorter one spoke, YN raised her eyebrow at him but he simply smiled. “Kim Baekhyung, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” YN ignored him, “You can tell the prince that I dissent his request.” Jinyoung smiled, “Ah, I forgot to mention the prince never did say we had to bring you back in one piece.”

    “Oh, how you always manage to surprise me, darling.” Jungkook’s smug smile was far too large for YN’s liking. She’d been brought to his chambers against her will and judging from the glint in his eyes, he had something planned. “I’m happy to see you’ve taken a liking to Vito.” He eyed the snake draped across her décolletagle. YN crossed her arms over her chest as Vito slithered down her body towards Morte’s resting bed, desiring to be with the other snake. “Look their friends.” Jungkook seemed too enthusiastic to YN which was the exact opposite of what he normally was.

“Morte could eat him alive.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

Jungkook turned his attention back to YN, noticing the state of distress of her gown before his eyes crawled back to her. “So tell me,” Jungkook leaned back onto the settee tilting his head slightly. “How did you escape?” If Jungkook knew about YN’s discovery then she’d be screwed. Though YN was beginning to pierce through the enigma that was Jeon Jungkook, she could never be sure whether she had managed to evade his game or play right into it. “Your fiance tried to murder me.” Jungkook shrugged, “I expected as much. Lions are volatile creatures, hot-headed too, best not to mess with them.” YN rolled her eyes, “The only reason Soojin attacked me was because of you. Shouldn’t it be you facing the actions of your consequences?!”

“You would blame a man in love?”

YN scoffed, “This isn’t love, it’s nothing but a game to you.”

“You’re wrong. It’s a love game.” Jungkook smirked, enjoying intensely how YN’s brows furrowed in frustration.

“What did you call me in for, your highness?”

Jungkook stood up abruptly, YN's stepped back a few feet in trepidation, something that the twisted prince enjoyed. He lifts his hand and brushes YN's lower lip delicately, "I wanted to tell you to switch your m.o. Strangulation is far too noticeable. I'd hate for you to draw unwanted attention." Slowly he circled YN letting his hand trail above her torso. "It was an accident, I didn't want to hurt her." Jungkook chuckled, arms wrapping tightly around YN's waist. "Who, darling?" His lips brushed the long arch of her neck, his arms tightening every second that passed by. "Soojin or Eun? Which one was an accident?" YN cast her eyes downward focusing on the snakes noticing how Morte had wrapped around Vito and was embracing him, or was it the other way around?

"You made me do it." YN struggled to get the words out, all she could see was Eun's dead body. All she could remember was the feeling of wringing her throat out until nothing remained. Jungkook gripped her chin, "Did I make you do it? Or did I permit you?" When they kissed it was tender so opposed to how the prince usually was. Jungkook was holding her as if afraid she would break. The kiss immediately distracted YN and she couldn't help but give in to it, just to escape the darkness in her mind. That is until a bitter tang filled her mouth and went down her throat. YN pushed away from Jungkook, spitting out his blood from her mouth.

Jungkook smiles sadistically, his tongue swiping across his lips to clean any remnants of blood. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" YN screams wiping her mouth in utter disgust. The man in question rolls his eyes as if the answer was oh so obvious. "I love you that's what." YN knew it was never good to reveal a trump card as it may come in handy later on, but she would have given anything at that moment to knock Jeon Jungkook down a peg or two.

“Your father is plotting to murder you.”

Instantly, Jungkook's face crumbled, his eyes widening in shock as he numbly asked, "What?" He looked so much like a lost child and YN felt regret pool at her stomach until his expression changed to one of rage. In the blink of an eye, Jungkook stood in front of YN, hand wrapping tightly around her neck as he lifted her from the ground. "What did you say?" YN struggles against his hold, her hands clawing at his to get him to let go. The only did he did was place her back on the ground, but his clasp remained.

“I saw him speaking to a portrait of a woman. He was going on and one about how you were a murderer from a young age and a threat he had to put a stop to.”

The pupil had all but consumed the iris in Jungkook’s eyes allowing YN to see herself perfectly reflected in them. “I don’t fucking believe you,” Jungkook screamed though there was a hint of pain towards the end that YN latched onto. “I swear it’s the truth!” She searched her mind for anything, any detail, that could convince the distrustful man that what she was saying was the truth. YN was beginning to feel dizzy as if she could pass out at any second, finally, she remembered. “S-she had your eyes.” Jungkook’s eyes filled with unshed tears as he let go of YN, letting her crumble to the ground. YN wheezed as she tried to regain her lost breath, well aware of the glare the prince had fixed on her.

“And how exactly were you in the king’s private study?”

In her disoriented state, the words slipped right out. “I saw it through a mirror.”

A moment passed before Jungkook smiled once more, a small ‘Ah’ leaving his lips. “You found the corridors. That’s how you escaped.” He crouched down in front of YN, “Though I doubt you’re aware of all of them, so you must’ve stumbled upon the one behind the tapestry.” Jungkook reached out patting down YN’s frazzled hair and tugging one side of it behind her ear. “Don’t worry I’ll have it sealed soon enough.” YN shoves his hand away, climbing to her feet. “I should have never told you.” Jungkook nods, “If it weren’t for your kindness you might have had me off your hands.”

He went to continue speaking but suddenly paused as if something had just occurred to him. “Why did you tell me?”

“He was going to pin it on me.”

A pause, then. “You aren’t as selfless as you think you are.”

News traveled fast of the wedding meant to bind the Seo’s and Jeon’s, while Jungkook had yet to mention it to YN there were too many outside forces for him to be able to avoid going through with it. Something which caused her great satisfaction. Though it was a cloudy day, YN found she enjoyed being outside nonetheless. Sana was currently by her side enjoying how the king’s many hunting dogs pranced around the garden. They were in the balcony near the throne room, YN was once again dressed in the finest garbs money could buy - Sana having forced her into them.

“Don’t worry, Mistress. I’m sure everything will be fine.” Sana reached out, squeezing YN’s shoulder comfortingly.

YN had told Sana everything one night after having one too many cups of wine and being cared for by the maid during her bath. Sana had assured YN that as much as the prince desired to wed her, as long as she was a peasant it wouldn’t be allowed. She wasn’t too certain that Jungkook wouldn’t be able to find a loophole, but it pacified her nerves. Not to mention her prompt meeting with the king had caused more rumors to surround her. Even while she was certain it was just Sana and her, YN could feel eyes piercing through her.

“Miss Kim?”

YN turned around to see Baekhyung bowing before her, instantly YN knew something was wrong. “They’re ready for you.”

When YN stepped foot inside the room it was filled with nobility, hushed whispers of incredulity falling from their mouth. Sitting perched upon the throne with a crown resting upon his perfectly styled hair was the prince of everything, Jeon Jungkook himself. No. It can’t be. He wouldn’t have…

“Unfortunately, my father is ill and won’t be able to attend any of his royal duties today, so I shall do it in his place,” Jungkook announced to the crowd of people, the second he spoke a deadly silence weighed over the room. Whether it was out of fear or respect was yet to be deciphered. Jungkook fixed his stare on YN and she could swear the prince blinked at her, but it was to quick to tell. "As most of you are aware by now, Mistress Eun has suddenly passed due to her misuse of substances. This has caused her land and title to have been lost." Jungkook wasn't just speaking to YN, but everyone.

“Due to her lands needing to be tended for and properties managed, someone needs to step forward to claim.” His dark eyes fixed on YN, “I hereby name Miss YN Kim and her heir’s sole proprietor of Eun’s lands and assets. Thereby granting her the title of Lady.” YN stilled in fear, but aware of the eyes on her she bowed deeply. “Thank you, your royal highness.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Once again Jeon Jungkook had won.

 “A Kim?!”

“The king must be really out of his mind.”

“Another Kim in court? Isn’t one enough?”

“Everyone knows the real reason she received them. Has she no shame?!”

 “Lady Kim,” YN turned around to see the crown of someone’s head, the ashy blonde hair all too familiar. It’s him. The man who had found Eun’s body and helped her escape. But why? The man rose from his bow, YN being able to see the deadly look in his eye. “Lord Kim Namjoon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” YN’s eyes widened, but Namjoon remained unaffected. Taking her hand into his and placing a small kiss over the knuckles. Though Jungkook was nowhere in sight, YN was certain she could feel him gauging her. If Jungkook knew it was Namjoon who aided her escape, heads would roll. Best to pretend then, it seems that is what Namjoon desired to do as well.

“Pleasure is mine, my lord. I was unaware there was another Kim in court.”

Namjoon smirked, “It’s not necessarily something the King would so openly acknowledge.” He tilted his head away from the crowd, signaling her to follow him. As they walked YN could hear more hushed gossip surrounding her, but most of it came from faceless individuals - no one of importance. “You’ve managed to cause quite a stir in your short time here, my lady.”

“It wasn’t my intention to do so.”

“Still I am not surprised, a woman as beautiful as yourself is bound to cause a ruckus anywhere.”

YN blushed, “You toy with me, my lord.”

Namjoon smirked, a wicked gleam in his eye that said he was. “I would never dare.”

           They stopped moving and YN realized Namjoon had maneuvered her away from the crowd, still close enough that they were in the room, but too far away for anyone to hear what was being discussed. YN longed to know why he’d helped her but figured that it hadn’t been done altruistically. The young lord stepped forward, “If I were to be so bold as to offer a word of advice, my lady?” A chill went down YN’s spine and her hand tightened into a fist, wishing Vito was there with her. “You’ve been so bold already,” YN cast her eyes around the room seeing Sana standing by the door speaking to Jinyoung. Her brow furrowed as the two seemed to be in a heated discussion. “I don’t see what harm a bit more could do.” She turned back to Namjoon who seems to have followed her line of sight.

           “Are you familiar with your family’s history?”

           “I have no family.”

           “You are a Kim are you not?”

           “It is only a name.”

           Namjoon chuckles, “Ah, but what’s in a name?” Once again the lord stepped closer, “May I recommend the story of Soo and So? I think you’ll find it quite an intriguing read.”

“As much as I’d like to, my lord, I own no such story or book. I’d doubt the king is stocked up on history books that do not relate to him.”

“Ah, that is true. What a shame indeed.”

Sana trailed behind her quietly, something YN found quite odd as the girl tended to be incredibly lively. Perhaps Sana pitied her given the circumstance, but that couldn’t be it. The girl had previously stated how much more she enjoyed being YN’s personal maid than having to run around the castle. Maybe she’s tired? Or maybe it had something to do with her conversation with Jinyoung - YN's guard dog. Before they reached the door leading to YN's bedroom Sana suddenly halted. "I'm sorry mistress, but if I could be excused? I'm not feeling all too well." YN was a bit shocked but nodded nonetheless. She was about to ask Sana if there was anything she could do to help, but the maid had already runoff.

YN sighed, unlocking the door to her bedroom. When she entered she noticed Vito was feasting on his latest meal, so YN shed her dress and headed straight for bed. Hoping to catch some sleep before dinner was delivered, her actions stopped when she noted the gift placed on her bed. It was nicely wrapped in fine silk with a ribbon on top, peeling back the layers YN found it was a book. When she opened it, a note fell out:

I could only find the abridged version, apologies - KNJ

YN’s hands ran through the spine and bold lettering at the front, the words ‘Golden Ones’ peering back at her in a metallic red.

Jeon Jungkook had just finished his bath when his peace was once again disturbed by the rasping of knuckles on his door. He groaned asking who it was as he imagined harming whoever deemed themselves important enough to intrude on his time. Imagine the surprise on the young prince’s face when none other than his lover appeared. “Well, to what do I owe this surprise?” YN stood hesitantly by the door consciously trying to convince herself not to back out of the plan. If he was annoyed at her silence he didn’t say anything instead Jungkook tilted his head and asked, “What game are you playing?”

YN stepped into the room, closing the door behind her careful not to turn around. Jungkook was like a predator - eye contact was essential for survival. YN’s eyes danced around the room not finding Morte anywhere in sight. “I’ve decided to not play any games. I know I’ll never beat you.”

Jungkook smirks, eyeing YN's figure up and down. "Well then, this may be the most fun game we've ever played."

YN ambled towards Jungkook, their eyes remaining on each other. Waiting for the moment the other faltered to strike.

“Where’s your pet, my lady?”

“In my bedroom, your highness. He is shedding.”

“Where’s Morte?”

“Where she needs to be.”

As they neared each other Jungkook took a seat at the edge of his bed, encouraging YN to join him. YN straddled Jungkook, trying to calm her racing heart from giving her away. “What am I to you?” Her eyes were wide and honest, as she asked. It had been foolish to think the answer would change.

“My Queen.”

It was the intensity of the prince’s stare that caused YN to look away, her eyes landed on a glass and gold chessboard. “I’ve never been a good player.”

Jungkook chuckled, eyes-rolling. “I doubt that’s true.” His warm breath fanned her neck causing goose-bumps to rise.

“Isn’t the king the most vulnerable of them all?”

Jungkook nods, letting his lips brush against hers trying to draw her attention back onto him. “Which is why he needs a powerful queen.”

YN chuckled, parting her lips and allowing the venom laced words to hit their target. “Good thing, Soojin will be your queen.”

The prince visibly tenses, his hand coming to grip YN’s waist tightly. He forces her to look at him as his eyes filled with a heady mix of lust and rage. “That’s a dangerous game you're playing, love.”

YN shrugs, “I’m not playing a game. I’m only trying to prove a point.”

“Oh?” Jungkook uses his grip on YN’s waist to push them closer together, leaving only centimeters between the star-crossed lovers.

“What you feel or think you feel is not love. It’s infatuation fueled by lust.” YN allowed her lips to brush Jungkook’s, though they never fully kissed. “I’m just a shiny new toy you want to play with until you get bored.”

"I will never tire of you YN, you can be certain of that." Jungkook's tongue swiped across his lips to moisten them. "Though if you are so certain, let's have a wager." Jungkook released his hold on her waist allowing YN to move away. Now that they stood feet apart, it felt as if this was a serious affair. "If what I feel for you is nothing more than infatuation, I promise to let you go." He lifted his palm as if taking an oath.

YN scoffed, “No. If I am right, then you will marry Soojin and make her your queen.” She wasn’t going to fall for his schemes any longer. Jungkook nodded, leaning back to rest on his elbows. When he failed to speak any further YN’s eyes narrowed, “Declare your wager.”

“I think I’ll save mine for later. Makes things more interesting don’t you agree?” Jungkook looked all too pleased with himself, the prince thought everything was under his control. But, just as YN often underestimated him, it seems he had now underestimated her. “So, what’s your big plan to prove your point?”

“Sleep with me.”

[malicejudged-a]

META ; Nemo and his Mental Health

A part of my portrayal for Nemo takes his mental health into consideration. I could make this about how he’s insane and how he interacts with that but it’s not gonna be about that. Because yes, he acknowledges and states that’s he’s crazy but I personally believe his insanity is a separate issue entirely. This post is about how his life, or afterlife, is affected by his PTSD and Depression.

WARNING: I DISCUSS SUICIDE AND SUICIDAL IDEATION IN THIS POST. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

I could go into depth about why I think Nemo has what he was but that might make this a tad long, so I’ll simply say that Nemo exhibits such symptoms of PTSD such as guilt (he most likely blames himself for what happened to Artina and his parents), mistrust (he gets his “business partners” by blackmailing and coercion. He is never genuine), irritability and hostility, and self-destructive behavior (see: the end result of his genocide plans). He also exhibits symptoms of Depression such as hopelessness, apathy (see: if he doesn’t hate you he just won’t care about you), agitation (see: his anger at the Kazamatsuri��s family reunion, and his anger at the mere mention of Artina’s name by those he hates), and thoughts of suicide (see: we’re coming back to this one. Oh boy).

So, Nemo most likely has them. First, I’ll explain why Nemo seems to act like a constantly cheery bastard if he has such heavy thoughts and serious issues. And the answer to that question is simple. He lies.

Nemo is very good at putting up a facade, and he’s very good at lying and hiding his true intentions. It’s to be expected of a man who’s had four hundred years to work on the art of manipulation and also had four hundred years to work on trying to suppress his issues deep down inside of himself so that they won’t interfere with his goal. There’s also the fact that in the game we only see him when he has something to focus on and people to put a show on for.

Also, just because Nemo has these very serious problems doesn’t mean he’s always constantly obviously depressed. 

But, with that point out of the way, how is Nemo affected by his PTSD and Depression? Well. For the short answer, his mental health is very much affected and he’s only holding himself together by focusing on his genocide plans. For the long answer...

Nemo does not like himself. In fact, I will outright say the man loathes himself completely and utterly. But if he hates himself, why does he act like such a smug asshole then? Easy. He’s faking it, like I mentioned before. Nemo is an asshole and can certainly act smug and smarmy and drunk on his own confidence, and he does have confidence in his abilities. But when it comes to himself as a person, he has major self-loathing.

Throughout mainly Episode 8, Nemo says a lot of things about humans! A lot of things that can be applied to himself. See, for example:

This exact chain of events is essentially what happened to Nemo. He regretted his actions. He fell into despair while in prison, and then he began his path on the destruction of both humanity and himself.

The things he says against humans are genuine. He genuinely believes these things about humans and rages against them for it, but... despite what he says to Fenrich about how he’s not human anymore and that he discarded his humanity and his old identity to be Judge Nemo, deep down, it’s likely Nemo still considers himself a human. And he hates himself all the more because of it.

His mental health issues most likely exacerbate this problem. His Depression feeds into his cycle of “rage against humans, see those same flaws in yourself, rage against yourself and wallow in hatred”, and the more ugly symptoms of his PTSD most likely become another thing that he can pick himself apart for.

Also, keeping in mind his immeasurable guilt over thinking he’s the reason Artina died, this line gets... sad. He believes all humans can do nothing except hurt their loved ones, and despite his claims otherwise, Nemo considers himself a human. And since humans can do nothing but hurt their loved ones, and Nemo believes he’s the one who hurt his own loved ones with his mere existence...

There’s also this line from Fenrich which I’ll say definitely helps my case for Nemo having a self-loathing problem.

His actions being invalidated makes sense but his very existence? Fenrich is able to almost connect with Nemo while he’s possessed by Fear the Great and he is fairly good at reading people and their emotions, so I’ll say this deduction has a fairly good chance of being accurate.

So this means that Nemo puts absolutely no worth in his existence beyond enacting revenge. His existence is worthless if he’s not working to destroy humanity. Most likely, his genocide plans are the only thing holding him together.

But now, let’s discuss Nemo and suicide. Namely, the fact that Nemo is deeply suicidal. For starters, have a 100% canon line.

Reminder: 100% canon line. It’s stated right there that during his imprisonment Nemo wanted to end his life. This can be interpreted as just wanting to die rather than spill any national secrets but considering other aspects of Nemo’s character and the horrific trauma he had already experienced...

And this suicidal ideation didn’t just go away after he stopped being the soldier. In fact, I would argue that all of his plans for humanity’s destruction somehow ends in Nemo vanishing. See, this scene:

It’s an innocuous scene, and it is probably also Nemo just screwing with Valvatorez because that’s something he just likes to do. But it’s odd that he would avoid answering the question and that he would answer it in such a vague way. Considering the fact that he believes his only purpose in life is to kill all of humanity, wouldn’t that mean the very accomplishing of his goal means he would invalidate his own existence?

But here’s the real kicker. The moment where Nemo goes from “maybe he’s suicidal” to actively suicidal. After The Hades Party has him acknowledge Artina’s existence inside Fear the Great, Nemo’s dialogue starts to become... worrying. He begins to speak and act like a suicidal person, saying that there’s nothing he can do to make anything better, that he’s too far gone, that it’s better that he just vanishes forever, and the fact that he’s attempting to throw himself into Limbo.

Limbo is described as complete nothingness. Where his soul would either rot forever or where Nemo would just... vanish. It can be debated but I personally believe that Nemo decided that since he failed as the judge, he failed long ago as the soldier, and he upset Artina, the only person he loves, the only option left for him was to vanish. To essentially commit suicide the only way a ghost could.

On a side note: it’s interesting to note how quickly Nemo’s mood falls when he no longer has something to focus on. He goes from his usual cheery bastard self, to the not-quite-there raging mess being used by Fear the Great, and when his goals of destroying humanity are destroyed by Artina’s mere presence he...deflates. He gives up. He stops pretending and lets his deep sadness and depression show through. The only coping mechanism Nemo ever developed was to throw himself into a long-running game to destroy all of humanity, all the while knowing at the end of it he was going to have nothing left and would find a way to vanish.

So, with the fact that Nemo has had suicidal thoughts before, most likely entertains the thought of ending his genocide plans a bit early, and tends to have major depressive thoughts when his mind isn’t focused on something (thoughts that inevitably lead to suicide), this line takes on a whole new meaning. Nemo thought he not only should, but deserved to die for the fact that he was unable to prevent his life being ruined and the various other tragedies that happened to him and those he loved.

In his eyes, the innocent lives of his parents and Artina were forsaken, and the life of the one who ruined them and condemned them forever, Nemo himself, was extended. When he should have died.

TL;DR: Nemo has PTSD and Depression. They affect his mental state greatly and either are the cause of it or greatly exacerbate his self-loathing and suicidal tendencies.

[ilikemanythingsespeciallyyou]

Klance Selection AU

wordcount: 16851

summary: It’s going pretty well in Illea. The caste system has been dissolved almost entirely and the country loves the current royalty. Technically there doesn’t really need to be a selection, but Lance insisted on hosting one. Being surrounded by 35 girls who all wanted him to fall for them. That was what his dreams consisted off since he was twelve. The only problem is the ‘Partnership’ with Altea. Because Illea and Altea are practically the same country now, the Alteans will want to watch as well. This wouldn’t be an issue, Lance loves attention, if it weren’t for the ambassador they’d send: Keith. Keith had been showing up as diplomat since his brother had married the princess of Altea. Lance loathed Keith. Mostly because Keith wasn’t Allura, who used to be the ambassador, but she has queen duties now or something. AKA royal bachelor AU no one asked for but I'm giving it anyway. Please be warned, this will include many many many cliché's and overused tropes. Why? because I like them. p.s. There will be lots of clichés in this because I'm weak and cheesy.

ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9400814/chapters/21281969 

35 girls all competing for Lance’s attention. A dream come true. He had been counting down the days for his selection to start since he was twelve. He had watched every single Selection at least four times. His favourite one was the one which lasted one day. The prince had looked every contestant in the eyes and immediately knew who was the one he would want to spend the rest of his life with. Lance didn’t really expect his selection to go that way. Mostly because he has been told that he has a terrible judge of character, especially when it comes to pretty girls. If he would use the same strategy he would probably end up keeping all the girls in the palace. The hardest part would be sending them away.

Apart from the excitement he felt that thousands of girls had submitted their pictures because they were interested in dating Lance, he also felt terrified. He would have to cause disappointment. He would have to tell 34 girls they aren’t the one, and watch as their smiles would fall. 34 families would not become the next royal family. He was also scared that his Selection wouldn’t be as entertaining as the others. That his love life would bore people to death. Fortunately, or unfortunately depends from which side you look at it, the Selection was still a week away. Preparations were being done and agreements made. At the moment Lance was looking at the pictures of the selected girls. He was laying down on his huge bed, which would probably be advertised as emperor-sized, as he was trying to link personalities to the photos.

Until he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t judge them based on a picture, and that all the fictional personalities boiled down to the same two qualities; strong and funny. A future queen should be able to handle herself. She should be independent and resolute. Obviously she should also be able to put up with Lance’s obnoxious behaviour. Lance had always appreciated a good sense of humour. If his wife can make him laugh, she can make him happy. That’s what he’s always thought. Dad makes mom laugh, and he’s a great husband. Thinking of the Selection always makes him think about his parents. His mother had skipped it. She wasn’t the first to do so. It had become some kind of memory from the past, but Lance had been completely willing to resurrect the old tradition.

Suddenly he heard someone knock on his door. “Come in.”

The door opened slowly. The head maid was standing in the doorway hesitantly. She wore the kind of smile she wears when the castle kitchen has run out of eggs, so he won’t get pancakes for breakfast. Indicating that she was here to announce a minor inconvenience.

“Hello dear, are you busy?” She asked with her honeysweet voice.

“No, I’m not mrs. Garret. Is there anything wrong?” Lance responded.

“Nothing important, but I just need you to come to the dining room. There have been made slight altercations to the planning.” Lance started to get a bit concerned now. He hoped whatever was wrong had already been fixed and they just needed to inform him of the changes, so the opening ceremony would proceed smoothly.

He stood up and looked at the mirror if he was presentable. Which he was. As if Lance flawless appearance would ever fail him.

He followed mrs. Garret to the dining hall. When the great doors opened in front of him he felt extremely important and powerful. There would be people waiting for him at the other side of the doors, they were his parents, but still.

Since he was a little kid he loved to pretend to be his mother, the most adored person in the country, as he would stride into the dining room. He felt majestic. He was just short of a cape flowing behind him to make his entrance perfect. Though he would imagine this scenario this every time he entered the hall, the feeling of greatness never wore off.

Until he saw who was sitting at the dining table next to his parents: Keith.

His mood dropped, steps faltered and his mouth fell open. What was he doing here? These couple of weeks/months would be Lance centric. Is he just here to steal his moment of fame?

“Uuuhmmm, explain please?” Lance demanded.

The apologetic look his dad send him told him enough. Keith was here to stay. The last bit of hope Lance had that he was here for a couple of days, after which he would leave to do his own prince stuff had been crushed.

“Well…” Lance mother started. “Illea and Altea are two very close countries. You know that. The citizens of Altea adore you and would love to see you fall in love. That’s why the Selection will be broadcasted there as well.”

“I was aware of that. So?” Lance was more than aware of it. He felt waves of pride whenever it was mentioned that the Altean citizens loved him, so he had been bragging about his Selection being the first international one to his friends.

“So, we thought they might like to see some of their own royal family in the background as well. They don’t want to be a passive part of the Selection, but actually have something to do with it.” She answered like it justified everything.

“They want to meddle in our politics.” Lance stated.

“Your superficial wife hunt has nothing to do with politics.” Keith noted factually. “And besides, like your mother just noted, I will just act as an advisor. I will be just as much or little a part in the process as you want.”

“Then leave.” Lance responded stubbornly,

“I don’t want to be here either so if you could just realize that I’m just going to stand in the background as some kind of Easter egg for the Altean viewers to see. I won’t influence anything.”

Lance huffed. “Sure you won’t.” He walked to the doors and slammed them for dramatic effect.

He was on his way to his room, though he wasn’t sure what he would do when he’d arrive. Probably just wallow in self-pity. Unfortunately he didn’t get that far.

“Hey, buddy! Where are you going?” Lance was not paying attention to his steps so he ran face first into his best friend Hunk.

“Hunk. Good to see you, but I gotta go.” He tried to shove past him, but Hunk had noticed Lance was upset about something and took his arm and turned him around.

“Is this about Keith?” He asked. He wore a concerned look on his face.

“You knew about that?” Did everybody in the castle agree on this except Lance?

“Uhm.” Hunk hesitated. “We were afraid you’d try to stop it. So we waited for the last possible moment.” Lance was offended. How could they assume he’d try to boycott Keith’s arrival? He most likely would

have done exactly that, but didn’t anyone in the castle trust him?

“Couldn’t anyone have asked for my opinion?”

“We already knew what your opinion was, and nobody agreed with it. Keith is a good guy. If you would just get past the fact that he’s not Allura even you would see it.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation right now. I’m going to my room.” Lance managed to move past Hunk and sprinted to his room.

Why did Keith have to ruin everything? First he takes Allura’s place as Royal Ambassador of Altea, so Lance sees her less. Then when Lance decided to give him a chance he forgets his name. Who forgets the name of a prince. Who does that? And in addition to that he wants to ruin the thing Lance has been looking forward to since his twelfth birthday. He may say that Lance won’t notice he’s there, but the girls definitely will. What if every single girls falls in love with the mysterious Altean prince, instead of him. What kind of sad story would that be? “Upon arrival every Selected immediately fell for brooding ambassador of Altea instead of the Prince they should be trying to seduce” It was technically forbidden, but Lance wouldn’t punish them for something Keith did.

Suddenly Lance was remembering every single girl’s face and imagining them telling him they’ve fallen in love with Keith. He tried to shake off the feeling, but it stung. It stung even more to know that Keith would do it unconsciously. He wouldn’t even notice every single girl eyeing him.

He must leave. As soon as possible.

Lance was bouncing through the castle halls. He was that excited. Only one day until the Selection would start. Only one day until he would meet the love of his life, hopefully.

Lance had been getting more anxious by the day. What if none of the girls are the one? That would be embarrassing, they would have to recast, everything would be twice as expensive. All the girls would be disappointed.

No. He would marry one of the 35 who would show up tomorrow. One of them is the one.

He practically knew all of them personally already by now. He had received their files two weeks ago and had studied them thoroughly. He knew their full name, birthplace, favourite colour, food, and everything else that defines them as a person. There was just one person who played a significant part of his Selection that he couldn’t figure out. Although Keith hadn’t really been very present the last couple of days, Lance knew he was up to something. It was suspicious that Keith was so hell-bound on staying. Lance had presented Keith with numerous excuses to leave and Keith hadn’t taken advantage of any of them, though he had insisted he didn’t want to be at the Selection either.

Lance was convinced he had ulterior motives. Who stays at a palace when the host “accidentally” ordered staff to fill your bed with glitter? Maybe it wasn’t fair of Lance to try to sabotage Keith into leaving, but it wasn’t fair to Lance that Keith was there at all.

While Lance was planning his next attack on the prince of bad haircuts he opened the door to the Report studio. His evil scheming would have to wait. The crew had already set up their equipment. Tonight would be another broadcast, to tell the people about the preparations and to give them a general update. Lance was used to the cameras, but to be on the news every single day of the week was something new. They’d only skip the next two days, because we want the guests to feel comfortable before we drag them in front of the cameras. He wasn’t sure if he’d like the lack of privacy, but he loved the attention.

The rest of his family and the ambassadors were already there. Just a couple of minutes left until they’d air. Lance was always fashionably late, but on time enough to not be of any trouble.

Someone else thought differently of that. Keith rolled his eyes in a gesture clearly meaning “Can’t you be on time for once, not the entire world revolves around you.” Which was extremely rude, not only because it does, but also because you don’t insult a future king. The problem with these small movements was that Lance couldn’t exactly complain about them without sounding like an exaggerating overdramatic brat. Keith always did these things that were not important enough to actually be offensive, but offensive enough to be important to Lance.

He sat down next to his parents and started bouncing his legs. Though Lance was a natural in front of the camera he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous every time. The entire country would be watching him.

Not just the entire country was watching him. A certain prince was also sneaking glances, thinking Lance wouldn’t notice. He did. He caught Keith staring and he quickly looked down at his hands. He didn’t appear to be mad anymore. Instead his face wore a different kind of expression. Lance wasn’t sure how to describe it. Maybe a mix of sadness and jealousy. He wasn’t sure. It confused Lance. Usually he was great at reading people’s expressions, but Keith made it difficult for him.

Lance still had to wait a couple of minutes until they’d go live, so he recapped what he’d say today: He was excited to meet the girls, he loved the presence of the Altean royalty and he looked forward to the upcoming festivities.

Just as he was finished deciding how to phrase everything, he heard the host announce the start of the program.

“Good evening everybody! Welcome to the last Report before our precious prince Lance has met his future wife!” Lance smiled at that thought. Only one night.

“Today we will discuss all of the ladies one last time and ask our royal guest what he thinks of his stay in the castle.” Though everyone inside the castle walls knew Lance and Keith could rip each other’s throats out, the people couldn’t know that. They must think that Lance and Keith were the bestest buds and that Keith was playing a major part in the Selection. Not that Lance refused to let Keith be involved in the Selection whatsoever.

To keep their illusion up, Keith talked about how welcome he felt in the castle and how well he was treated. In addition to that, Lance said that they had developed a friendship that would last a lifetime.

The Report was over before Lance realized it. Everything and everyone had been discussed, so he could go to bed now. It felt surreal. Tomorrow he’d meet his soulmate. At least he hoped so.

Lance usually woke up at eleven a.m., but today he was so excited that he had been wake since 6 o’clock. Which isn’t very early compared to the sleeping habits of other staff members, but to Lance it felt like he hadn’t slept at all. Yet he couldn’t keep his thoughts in check to fall asleep again. He had given up after lying in bed for over an hour.

He had been helping his servants with the last minute preparations because he couldn’t sit still for more than three seconds. These couple of hours had been the longest of his life, but they seemed to be close to their end.

A half hour before the arrival of the participants Hunk had brought him to his room. He had let his servants take care of him. He trusted them enough to make him look his best.

Lance was so focused on waiting for the clock to hit twelve, that he had forgotten that the girls would first have to be introduced to etiquette; they’d get a tour and then they’d meet their maids. That would take forever. Even if they’d enter the castle at precisely twelve o’clock, he still wouldn’t see them for hours.

Keith would probably see them earlier. What if he was the one to give the tour? No, he can’t, he gets lost in the castle hallways all the time. Lance has spotted him near his room repeatedly, while his room is at the opposite side of the wing. Not that Lance corrected him. He didn’t want Keith to think that Lance pitied him. Which he didn’t.

After his servants were done dressing him up, Lance continued to stare at his own reflection for a while. After even that started to bore him (can you imagine), he decided to do some work. He still had to write a couple of letters to some countries he had never been to and choose the music for the feast. He had told everyone he had already done that and that he wanted it to be a surprise, but in reality he had been too distracted to concentrate on classical music. You may think “Just choose a couple no one will care!”, but it’s not that simple. Certain songs have undertones with hidden meanings some people will take to offense. One time Lance had accidentally almost declared war on Swendway. Luckily his servants had corrected his mistake before the song got played, but it was close.

He still had to choose around ten songs for an evening full of incredibly sleep-inducing music when his servant came to get him. When he heard the knock on his door he practically sprinted towards it.

Once they had finally arrived at the dining room Lance was shaking. He was rambling to the servant about things he wouldn’t remember later that evening. But he reassured Lance that everything would be fine and opened the door. The moment itself it was terrifying, having no time to mentally prepare, but he knew that if he had had more time to think, he would have just been more worried.

When he saw the full dining room he took a deep breath and put on his brightest smile. He walked inside with an air of confidence and pride. “Hello ladies, I hope you have had a wonderful day at the palace and that the food will be to your liking.” They all answered something positive and nodded. He strode to his seat and sat down.

Apparently everyone had been waiting for a while, because the second he touched his seat everyone attacked their plate. Everyone except Keith and one of the girls who he was in a very interesting conversation with. She had short hair and round glasses. Pidge, if Lance remembered correctly. Which he did. He remembered why he chose her. Her letter. It was short, but had a very clear message. She wasn’t interested in Lance, but she had a bet with her dad. He said that if she could get him some of the castle's peas that he would buy her a new computer. Lance had not been able to stop laughing for hours after reading the letter. Who would put so much effort into getting a computer? He had to meet her.

Though he knew Pidge wouldn’t like him, he still didn’t like Keith talking to her. He was laughing at something she said and Lance felt his blood start to boil. How dare he do that. Lance wasn’t sure what he was mad at, but it definitely had something to do with Keith.

Lance realized he had been staring at Keith with a death glare when Hunk nudged his shoulder. “Dude, looking at him like he just murdered your firstborn can cause suspicion among the girls. You know that right? Or do you want them to know how you feel about him?” He whispered.

“No, I don’t. He just. Annoys me.” Lance answered. He looked around the table and realized that he knew all of the names and gave himself a pat on the back. He won’t embarrass himself by forgetting their names. That would be so awkward. He’d probably send himself away if that happened. Obviously that wasn’t the only thing that could go wrong. But it was a good sign that he remembered the names.

He smiled to himself. He had been looking forward to this for so long, and now it was happening. With minimum chance of name-forgetting. Nothing could be better. Except for Keith. He looked at him again. Keith had stopped talking with Pidge was now pushing his food around his plate. Then he looked up and caught Lance staring, but quickly averted his gaze like he was the one caught. He didn’t look very well. He should probably go to sleep or something. Not that Lance cared or anything. He didn’t want Keith to puke on any of his guests, that’s all.

Lance had decided he would first have a speed-date with all of the contestants and then send a couple of them home. That way everyone would have a chance, but he wouldn’t leave anyone hanging though he knew they weren’t the one anyway.

He had just finished his date with an incredibly intriguing girl called Nyma. He had returned to his room to put on a different shirt, as he had spilled some food on his previous one.

He was almost finished with the dates when he saw the name Pidge on his list. Lance considered skipping her, because he knew he wouldn’t send her away before she’d won the bet. On the other hand, he really wanted to get to know her.

It was getting late, and he wanted to finish the dates today. So, he could sleep on it and announce who would have to leave tomorrow. He called his servant and arranged that he would sit next to Pidge with dinner. He was content with his solution, and read the next name on the list: Plaxum.

Her room was just like the others on the other side of the palace. He was almost there when he saw, you guess who, Keith. What was he doing at the women’s wing? When Keith saw Lance he quickly ducked into a different corridor. No, he wasn’t getting away that easily.

“Get over here, Keith! Where did you just come from?” Lance yelled. “No need to hide it if it wasn’t illegal.”

Keith didn’t know the castle as well as Lance did, so he had walked into a dead end. Idiot. He had his back to Lance and looked at the wall. Eventually, after he had realized his mistake, he turned around.

“Nowhere, just lost,” he said innocently. Like he had practiced it. “Could you help out a pal and tell me where the woman’s wing is?”

That bastard. Lance wanted to hit the smirk right off his face. How dare he ask that? He felt his blood boil and balled his fist. But when he was about to swing Keith smiled at him. A genuine smile. Lance was thrown off by this. Why would he do that? They were in the middle of a fight. There was no one around to fake it for, so it was completely illogical.

“Don’t get too worked up. I’m just kidding. I went to see Pidge, she told me about her bet. No need to get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Lance growled through gritted teeth. “It’s not like any of the girls would like you anyway,” Lance snapped, but Keith didn’t look very effected by his comment.

“You were about to hit me for asking where the girls are, so don’t pretend you’re not jealous. It’s cute. How protective you are, I mean. So, don’t be embarrassed.”

Keith was complimenting him, but it felt like he was being made fun off. Stupid Keith and his stupid compliments.

“I’m not cute,” Lance responded. He was hot, funny, intimidating, but not cute.

Keith stopped smiling and walked past Lance. His previous giddy mood gone.

“See you at dinner. Uhhm. Good luck with your date.”

And he was gone.

Well that was weird. He had never seen Keith like that. Lance himself had never acted like that before. He wasn’t a violent person, and yet he was moments away from breaking Keith’s nose. Though he didn’t like to admit it, Keith was right. He was jealous. Very Jealous. He had made this Selection his life, his dream. Now that it was happening he could only imagine the ways it would fail miraculously.

He hadn’t realized that he was still staring in the direction Keith left in. He took a deep breath and set off to his next date.

Lance was pushing around the food on his plate. Why was this so difficult. He thought that by having these dates he could send a couple of the girls home, but no such luck. All of them were incredibly sweet and funny and perfect. He needed to talk to someone about it. Unfortunately for Pidge, she sat closest to him.

“Hey, Pidge. If you were me, how would you choose?” he asked. It kind of came out of the blue. They had been talking before this, but they weren’t best friends or anything. To immediately ask advice on his love life from her was a bit weird, but desperate times ask for desperate measures.

“I don’t know.” She answered helpfully. When Lance looked at her bluntly, she added; “She’s gonna be queen, right? I’d probably first look if any of the candidates don’t see fit for that job.”

Though Lance didn’t really like that she said it like being Lance’s wife was a job they were applying for, she did have a point. Anyone who’s not fit to run a country, probably isn’t capable of handling being Lance’s wife either.

When dinner was finished, he went to his room and stared at his ceiling. He had mentally prepared himself for the choosing to be this difficult, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Even though it took him three hours and seventeen minutes, eventually he had written down the names of two girls he was sure of couldn’t lead a country. Both of them could barely make eye contact with Lance, let alone appear on the television of every person in Illea and Altea combined. He’d be doing them a favour.

The next hour he decided who he just couldn’t imagine being his partner. Apart from Pidge, he came up with three other names. One of which was Haggar. During their date, she was constantly mumbling about how to destroy Illea, so Lance would be sending her straight to the prisons, instead of her house. He started imagining how her house would look. Probably made of the bones of small infants. Why he had ever chosen her was a mystery to him in hindsight. She had probably cursed him or something.

Finally satisfied with his list, he went to Hunk. Maybe he still had some advice left. He walked into the kitchen and sat down on the counter next to where Hunk was chopping up vegetables.

“Hi, Hunk. How are you doing?” he asked.

“It’s been very busy, because we need to prepare thrice as much food as usual, but besides that I’m doing great. You?” Hunk wasn’t paying much attention to Lance, not taking his eyes off his task in front of him.

“I’m fine, but if you don’t have time to talk right now, I completely understand.”

“No, no, I’ve got all the time for my best bud. Also, my shift ends in 15 minutes, so if you want my undivided attention, you can wait for a bit. But by all means, start rambling right now.” Hunk was the best person Lance knew. You could always talk with the guy. Lance once stormed into his room at 3 a.m. to complain about his crush on Allura.

“Thanks, bro. Well, you see. I’ve made this list with the first you know, ones I want to send home. I just wanted to ask you, if, you know, you have anything to say about it,” Lance had indeed started rambling. He was nervous, who could blame him?

“It’s your life, your choices,” he answered. Just as unhelpful as Pidge had been.

“Come on, there has to be one girl you don’t like. One you feel is not right for me. It is your duty as my best friend to make sure nobody breaks my heart,” Lance was being dramatic, but this was important to him, so it could be excused.

Hunk had to think about it for a while, at least, he was thoughtfully stirring his soup, which Lance interpreted as such.

“Haggar’s already on the list. As for Nyma, she’s very nice, but I’ll look out.”

“As if you would pay attention to anything once a cute girl is involved,” he mocked. Lance pushed him softly. “I am a master of deduction, excuse me.”

That made Hunk laugh even harder. “You’re so oblivious, you couldn’t solve a murder if the murderer was holding a bloody knife over a corpse.”

“What makes you think that?” Lance almost felt offended.

“Keith told me you almost hit him, because he hung out with Pidge. Like he would ever try to take her from you.” Obviously, Keith would go to Hunk to make Lance look bad.

“Did he tell you about the part where he asked for directions to the girl’s wing?” He was getting mad. How dare he tell Hunk that.

“He did, Lance. He was just kidding. Where on earth did you get the idea that he would try to sabotage you? Have you seen the guy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he wouldn’t do it on purpose. Maybe girls would just immediately fall in love with him if they saw him. He’s the walking stereotype of tall, dark and handsome.”

Hunk examined Lance for a minute. “Are you telling me you think Keith is attractive?” He was getting on Lance’s nerves.

“No, I don’t think that, you’re twisting my words.” Lance stood up from the counter. “Thanks, for the advice, but I’m leaving.” Lance almost sprinted to his room, he wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to cuddle up in his blankets. Alone.

What he didn’t know was that Hunk was cooking with a huge grin on his face. Once his shift was done, he called Pidge on her handmade phone. “Pidge, you won’t believe what just happened.”

Today was the day of the feast. Though Lance felt bad for sending people home the day of a festivity, he couldn’t feel comfortable in the castle with Haggar around. He also didn’t want to lead the girls on. So he went to the rooms of the girls on the list and apologised sincerely that he didn’t feel a connection with them. He added that they were welcome to stay until tomorrow morning if they wanted to attend the party. Except Haggar, to whom he sent a guard to drag her off the castle grounds.

Almost all the preparations were finished so all he could do was sit back and relax. He trusted his staff with his life and believed there was nothing that could go wrong tonight. So he decided to take a walk when he encountered Plaxum. She talked about her hometown and how she misses her family. Which reminded Lance of his siblings, travelling and discovering the world while he was busy learning the country’s laws. It was a nice talk and at the end of their walk she kissed him on his cheek. Still, he felt like there was something missing. Sure she was beautiful, funny, intelligent, and attractive, but it didn’t feel quite right yet. Maybe if they get to know each other better something could bloom, but for now their relationship felt strictly platonic.

As he walked to his room he saw Pidge talking to Hunk and joined their conversation. They were talking about something scientific regarding the castle map, but Lance didn’t bother to understand. They talked in code anyway. Once they noticed Lance they changed the subject.

“How’s the food for tonight doing?” Pidge asked.

“It’s gonna be great, just you wait and see.” Hunk grinned.

“The music will be incredibly boring as always. I swear, it’s impossible to find a song which sounds nice and isn’t highly offensive to at least three countries,” Lance contradicted.

“Well, at least you tried,” Hunk said.

“How many songs will you be able to slow dance to?” Pidge asked. Hunk nudged her shoulder, as if to say “don’t”, though Lance couldn’t recognize the problem with the question.

“All of them, obviously. It’s a romantic ball,” he answered.

“Romantic it will be,” Pidge said. She turned around and left without another word.

“What the hell was that about?”

“Nothing, she’s just excited,” Hunk said. Lance didn’t truly believe him, but knew he wouldn’t give away anything.

Lance was wrong. There were a lot of things that can go wrong in one night. Just as the ball had begun, the light and heating shut off. Which was kind of a big deal because it was the middle of winter.

The girls were all wearing beautiful gowns which would be great if they weren’t extremely cold. So they decided to all huddle together with Lance in the middle. Of course, he didn’t mind that.

Pidge felt she was above that nonsense and conversed with Hunk and Keith. It was obvious she was uncomfortable in the dress, but hers had sleeves at least.

Keith was listening to Hunk attentively, but his expression grew more annoyed the more time passed. How dare he be annoyed at Hunk, a guy with only the best intentions. That was the moment Lance noticed something else about him: he was blushing. Their conversation didn’t look like it was about something embarrassing Keith had done, which could only mean one thing- he was crushing on someone. Though this conclusion may be a bit paranoid, especially taking the amount of alcohol consumed into account, it made a lot of sense at that moment.

Though Lance was hardly in a position to leave, with all of the girls surrounding him, he excused himself anyway. He gracefully stalked over to Keith’s small ensemble of people trying to look patient, yet failing completely.

“What’s up?” Lance asked. He tried not to pry, but failed miserably.

“This party sucks,” Keith answered. Not exactly the answer he expected, but he could work with it.

“Jealous that all the girls are dancing with me?” That would show him. None of the girls were interested in him. He could have a crush on one of them all he wanted, but they liked Lance.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith scoffed. “I just meant it’s cold. The food’s great though. Compliments to the chef.”

“Thanks, Keith. That’s very kind of you.”

Lance could see his father in the corner of his eye. He stopped the band and not much later his voice echoed through the ballroom.

“I’m sure you are all aware of our technical problems. I hope you can forgive us for this inconvenient situation. Due to the cold weather, some people will have to share a room tonight. Our staff has tried to make the arrangements as pleasant as possible for everyone involved. Everyone will be made aware of their roommate before the end of the feast. There are still a couple of songs left, so enjoy the rest of the evening.”

Lance hadn’t thought of that. Not all of the rooms had a fireplace, which would mean the people sleeping in it could freeze to death. He didn’t know who he wanted to be his roommate. He didn’t really mind sleeping with any of the candidates. In the innocent sense of the word.

Lance had forgotten to pray against one certain outcome. He should have known. His father didn’t want to show any favouritism to any of the girls and Hunk’s room had a fireplace.

Keith’s didn’t.

Apparently his father wanted them to bond or something, so he made them share a room. Lance couldn’t complain, because that would make him seem like an asshole and even though he didn’t like the guy, letting him freeze to death seemed a bit harsh. That’s why when Keith knocked on his door he just rolled his eyes and showed Keith the couch.

Keith didn’t feel any better about the situation. He fiddled with his shirt, but he eventually sat down on the couch.

“This sucks,” he concluded.

“No shit.”

“We could just ignore each other,” Keith proposed. Lance nodded in his direction and walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth and begin his skincare routine.

A few minutes later Keith pushed the door open. He jumped once he saw Lance’s face covered in a selection of creams and potions. “What’s that on your face? You look like a monster!” Lance realized that he could either mope all night or he could try to be civil. That’s why he laughed at Keith’s reaction.

“It’s called a facemask. You should try it sometime. Maybe it would clear up that disaster of a skin you got.”

Keith mumbled something to himself, which Lance decided was probably demeaning in some shape or form, so he smeared the leftover cream on his fingers on Keith’s nose.

“Tomorrow you’ll see how much better your nose will look. Trust me.”

“Doesn’t that stuff make your skin glow? Will I have a glowing nose tomorrow?” he said and tried to rub it off.

“So you have been paying attention to my rants? How sweet of you.”

That comment made Keith blush a bit. Which confused Lance. What was so embarrassing about it?

“I’m gonna head to bed. Or couch, or whatever,” he said and abruptly left the bathroom. He hadn’t even brushed his teeth yet.

Lance eventually finished his routine and walked out too. When he saw Keith curled up on the couch, limbs sticking out from his blanket, he felt kind of bad. Though they had agreed to ignore each other, he still was Lance’s guest.

“Are you comfortable? Because if you aren’t you can sleep in my bed,” Lance asked.

Keith looked at him confused but finally replied; “Nah, I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“My bed’s definitely large enough for the both of us, if that’s what you mean. I can stay on one side and you on the other. Be honest, you’re not going to sleep on that couch. It’s impossible.”

“Well, if you insist. Who am I to decline such a wonderful offer?” He was clearly mocking Lance, but he was too tired to care.

Keith walked over to the bed and slid under the covers. After a couple of minutes of awkward silence Keith shifted suddenly and kicked Lance to the ground. Lance was too confused to register anything else than Keith’s almost maniacal laughter.

“Ha ha. Very funny.” He had to admit; he hadn’t expected Keith to do that and it had made the situation less uncomfortable. “I could have you executed for that. You know that, right?”

The grin on Keith’s face didn’t falter. “Yeah, right. Like you really didn’t just invite me into your bed, because you thought I was mildly discomforted. I can see right through you, Lance.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Lance scoffed.

“You’re weak. You feel lonely and want a friend,” he said.

“I have many friends,” Lance replied.

“How many of those aren’t paid?” None of them. That stung. None of them were here for him.

“Like you are mister popular,” Lance spat back.

“I never said I was.” Sadness seeped through his voice, but only ever so slightly.

It was silent again. It wasn’t uncomfortable this time. It was heavy with unspoken words. Eventually Keith broke it.

“Do you hate me or not?” Just moments before Keith had claimed to know every single one of Lance’s secrets and yet he was stupid enough to actually think he hated him.

“I don’t. You’re just not Allura and I guess it took a while for me to get used to that.”

“You’d rather be sharing a bed with her?” he mused.

“Firstly, she is married. To your brother for fuck’s sake. And secondly, you’re making this much more awkward than it needs to be.”

“You’d rather be sharing a bed with my brother then?” he teased. Lance threw his pillow at him and hit him right in the face. “Well, now I have two pillows. This only gets better,” Keith said before throwing the pillow back and missing by a humongous amount.

Lance looked at him and they both burst out in laughter. This wasn’t as bad as Lance thought it would be.

After a while they both fell asleep.

Keith was a very restless sleeper and a blanket hog. He twisted and turned and eventually he had tangled himself in the sheets and Lance’s limbs. He woke up in the middle of the night, too afraid to move. He could wake Lance up after all. That was definitely the only reason he didn’t move. Not that his body was warm or that he felt the slight thudding of Lance’s heart or his hair that smelt like a summer breeze or the soft snores he let out and absolutely not because Lance was just as entangled in his limbs.

This could get him in so much trouble, but he decided that trouble could wait for the morning. He reminded himself he should thank Pidge for meddling with the heating system.

Well, that’s awkward.  Keith’s arms were wrapped around Lance’s waist like he was the last thing tying him to this earth. Lance’s heart was beating hard in his chest. Because of embarrassment he figured. He cleared his throat and Keith startled awake. Making sense of the situation he tried to apologize, but it evolved into aimless rambling.

“It’s okay. It was cold and I am hot, you were probably just subconsciously drawn to my hotness. No big deal.” Keith rolled his eyes at that, though a slight blush appeared on his cheeks. Interesting.

“I’m going to shower.” Keith stood up and walked to the bathroom.

After that they pretended it hadn’t happened at all.

Lance had decided that he would send a couple of girls home every week. He hoped it would become easier every week, but the opposite happened. Less girls meant more disappointment. It wouldn’t be so difficult if he was falling in love with one specific girl. That didn’t appear to be the case though. He was either falling for all of them, or none of them. It had been seven days since the last party and therefore seven days since he had sent people home.

The girls were playing some sort of sport together in the gardens. He could see them from his bedroom window. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Some of them had become good friends with each other, others could rip each other’s throats out. It was hard not to let this influence his decision. He wanted all the girls to be friends and to never leave each other behind.

He finally made his decision and started to prepare today’s speech for the Report. Giving the same speech everyday was tiring. Especially when you needed to rewrite it every time. The things he needed to talk about were, the girls are all lovely, the choice is difficult, and something positive about Altea.

Altea. Hearing that word used to make him think about Allura. It doesn’t anymore. It makes him think of Keith. About how he isn’t really that bad. They seem to have made a peace treaty since last week. At least, Keith hasn’t talked to Lance in a week and is avoiding eye contact. Which could be read as avoiding him in general. That’s not the case though. He greets him in the hallway, he’s just always looking at his own feet when he does. Lance isn’t sure if he likes this treaty much. He thinks he’s supposed to.

He finished up his speech, practiced a couple of times, and headed downstairs to the studio. He was early for a change. Keith was early too. He looked bored. His eyes flickered to Lance for a moment, but it was so short Lance swore he imagined it. Lance sat down next to him.

“How are you doing?” he asked. Keith turned his head and smiled briefly. “I’m good. You?” It was awkward and Lance decided he didn’t like their treaty.

“Great, I just feel a bit guilty that I have to send some girls home today.” Lance wanted to make the conversation more personal, but this was probably not the way to go, because Keith gaze flicked away.

“You don’t have to send them home if you’re not sure,” Keith said.

“But I do. I can’t have them here forever. I can’t lead them on forever.” “So you’re sure that you’re making the right decision. Then there’s nothing to feel guilty about.” Lance huffed at that. “You don’t get it, Keith. You never will.” Keith looked away. They didn’t talk after that. At least their treaty had come to an end.

After he had personally told several girls they weren’t the one, Lance went to sulk in his room. Unfortunately, he couldn’t get that far before Hunk stopped him.

“Hey, how’s the dating going?” he asked. “Badly, I just send a couple of them home.” “That’s good right? You’re getting closer to finding the love of your life.” He tried to cheer Lance up, he knew that, but it just wasn’t working. “Why does everyone say that? I feel like I’m just getting further away at having a chance at anything. Like I might be sending the love of my life back to the other side of the country, because I didn’t give them a chance.” Hunk gave Lance a hug. “Do you mean you don’t feel anything for any of the girls?” “No, I do. I like going on dates and spending time with them, I like kissing them, I do, but I don’t really want to spend the rest of my life with them you know what I mean,” Lance replied. “I get it. Maybe you’re just not looking in the right direction.” What on Earth was that supposed to mean? There were only so many directions you could look in. “What do you mean? Where do you think I should be looking?” Hunk let him go and smiled at him. “I think you have to figure that out for yourself. I have to get some plates from the east wing. Wanna come with?” That was helpful. “Yeah, sure.”

The party was great. Lance drank, flirted, and drank some more. The evening was at its prime and Pidge was explaining how a sound system would improve the party experience while Lance argued that it wouldn’t be the same as a live band. Pidge turned around and asked Keith’s opinion. With Pidge it had been a pleasant exchange of viewpoints, but Lance was ready to fight about it with Keith. He was surprised when Keith agreed with him on it, though he had different reasons. Why would he agree? Was this some conspiracy? Hadn’t they gone back to hating each other again? Eventually Pidge gave up and left them alone.

“So, bands. Am I right?” Keith said. There it was. It was awkward again. Lance braced himself. In unison they began; “I’m sorry-“. They chuckled. “I'll begin,” Lance said. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you. It’s not your fault.” “Apology accepted. Now my turn. I’m sorry for making this harder for you by being here. I’ll leave if you want me to.” Something crawled into Lance’s gut and started twisting his organs. He didn’t know why. “No, of course I don’t want that.” He said it before he thought about it. “I like it that you’re here. You’re just a pain in the ass sometimes, by being perfect and smart and you’d probably be better at this entire thing than I am. Even though I always thought this would be my thing.” The drinks were getting to him. “So, yeah. I lied. I do hate you a bit. Because you’re better than me at everything.”

He should probably stop talking now. But he didn’t and Keith didn’t either. They talked, and drank, and talked some more. He should spend time with the girls. He should, but he didn’t want to. He thought it could be the thing he wanted the least in the entire world. He should probably stop drinking now, he was starting to lose his sense of balance and his sense of boundaries.

“You should get to bed, Lance. You’re too drunk to stay,” Keith told him. Lance couldn’t argue, he was right. He let Keith lead him to his room. “You smell nice," he said into his shoulder, as he was leaning on him. Wow he was strong. Lance was taller than him and he was carrying most of his weight. Especially when you take into account that he wasn’t sober either. “Thank you. You smell nice too.” Lance chuckled.

They arrived at his door. Lance should probably open the door now. But he didn’t. Keith could do it. That wasn’t true. Lance was blocking it. “You should get in,” Keith said. “Yeah,” Lance said. “I should.” He didn’t move. Keith didn’t either. “You have pretty eyes.” Keith smiled. “You have a pretty smile as well,” Lance added. He chuckled. “This is why I hate you.” Keith didn’t stop smiling. “I hate you too.” “I know.”

Lance cupped his cheek and leaned in. Keith kissed back. Lance didn’t know how long they’d been kissing, but he wanted to keep doing it for the rest of his life. Forever and ever. But Keith pulled away.

“Isn’t this treason?” he asked. Lance was worried he would stop, until he saw Keith was grinning. He was just joking. “It’s only treason if you kiss one of the girls,” Lance replied. He wanted to kiss him again, but Keith stopped him. “I mean, aren’t you committing treason.” “To who? Myself?” Lance laughed. “So when the girls kiss me it’s treason, but when you do it, it isn’t?” “Exactly, when I do it, it is, it is..” Lance couldn’t come up with the word. He didn’t want to talk about the girls anymore, he wanted to kiss him again, so he just said, “Practice.”

That hadn’t been the right word. Keith removed himself entirely from Lance. He looked ashamed. “You need to sleep.” He opened the door and helped Lance get ready for bed.

“Stay, please,” Lance murmured, but Keith shut the door behind him. He didn’t understand what had gone wrong so quickly. The last thing he thought about before drifting off was that he didn’t want this to make things awkward between them again. Good thing he wouldn’t remember anything the next day, anyway.

Lance woke up with an incredible headache and spent the first hour of his day puking, which was inconvenient because he had to be at the Report at 10 a.m. He looked like a corpse. He hoped make-up could fix it, but he doubted it.

He picked one of his nicest suits- maybe it would compensate for the bags under his eye- and headed out. Just as he turned around the corner he saw Pidge. He wasn’t up for a conversation right now.

“Wow, you look bad.” She said. He really wasn’t up for a conversation. “Yeah, I drank a bit too much nunville yesterday.” “So I’ve heard,” she replied. “I didn’t do anything too embarrassing right? I can’t remember much.” “What’s the last thing you can remember?” He had to think for a bit. “I think talking to you and Keith.” “Do you remember that I left?” she asked. “You mean you left me and Keith alone?” Shit. “Yeah.” “And he talked to me?” “Yeah.” She could probably read my worried expression because then she added, “You just talked for a while, but you got too drunk so he escorted you to you room. Nice guy that Keith.” Did she know we weren’t friends? Probably. So he just asked her, “Why would he do that?” She smirked. “I thought you were buddies?” Oops. “Yeah, but we were having a disagreement earlier. Apparently we’ve resolved it.” “Don’t lie to me. I know you’re not the close friends they make you out to be.” “Yeah… we weren’t but then we kind of worked it out and then I screwed up again and now we’ve made up again and I can’t remember,” Lance said. Pidge’s expression changed. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. After you left Hunk and I saw Keith in the hallway. I think he was crying, but he didn’t want to talk about it.” Shit. “I can’t believe I made up with the guy and screwed up again. And I can’t even remember! He’s gonna be mad at me for something I didn’t know I did.” Pidge put her hand on Lance’s shoulder “Don’t worry about it too much. It’s going to be okay. You have different problems, like the menu of the feast tomorrow.” Lance had totally forgotten about that. Tomorrow it’s Illea’s national holiday. He had been so stuck in the rhythm of one party every week and had been busy with the Selection he had disregarded the additional parties. “I completely forgot that.” “Yeah, we figured. Hunk got the food. It’s gonna be good. I did the decorations and music,” she assured. “You don’t know anything about flowers or foreign customs.” “I’m offended. I know many things about flowers and I got a database with all the information someone might need. Did you know that in Altea pink stands for fallen warriors and orange for ‘stop washing my cat with nunville’?” Lance felt more calm now that she had stated those meanings, though for him this information wasn’t new, he knew most people wouldn’t know this. “Thank you so much. Where would I be without you?” He hugged her tight. Then he looked at the clock and saw that they only had fifteen minutes left, so they headed to the studio.

Several girls glared at Pidge when they walked in. Hilarious. He took his place next to Keith and Pidge winked at him and put on the most flirtatious voice she could when saying goodbye, just to piss off the rest. Lance took note of the ones with the most vicious looks. Nobody looks at his friend like that.

Lance shifted in his seat. Trying to find the words. How could he apologize for something he can’t remember. It was Keith who broke the silence. “Stop moving like that. It’s making me nervous.” “Sorry,” Lance replied. “I just- I don’t know. I can’t remember anything from yesterday.” Keith let out a sigh. He almost sounded relieved. “Pidge just told me that you brought me to my room, thanks for that, but she said you looked upset afterwards. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry if I hurt you.” He tensed again. Lance was pretty sure he heard Keith cuss Pidge under his breath. “It was nothing.” “Well if you start crying in a hallway it’s clearly something. What did I do?” “Pidge exaggerates everything, and it wasn’t about you anyway.” He didn’t outright say it, but the message was loud and clear: drop it. “So… Are we cool again? Or not?” Lance asked. Keith looked at him. There was no sign of any emotion on his face. “Yeah, sure.” They weren’t cool again.

The cameras started rolling and they put on their best smiles. Lance hoped the tension wasn’t visible. One time he snuck a glance at Pidge and he knew it was.

Hunk had reassured him that he had everything under control and that Lance could take a day off. He liked it. He didn’t have to spend his day pondering over flowers, instead he spend it on pondering over girls. There were still so many, and still no face came up when he thought of the future queen. Though Lance had gotten rid of the thought of Keith trying to seduce the girls he had decided to daydream about, it had been replaced by a brooding Keith, always lurking in the shadows. Lance knew he did something, but he didn’t want to push Keith and he was also pretty sure what he did was really bad.

After he had completed this week’s list of girls, mostly consisting of the jealous girls, he got ready for the feast. Nice suit, nice hair, nice make-up. Ready to go.

When he arrived at the ballroom, the staff was busy with decorations. He helped a bit, until the girls arrived and talked to them. He was enjoying himself. He danced with a couple of girls, Ezor and Nyma are remarkable dancers. Still he couldn’t shake off the feeling he was being watched. Well, he knew he was being watched, but apart from the cameras which were on him at all times another certain black-haired specimen was keeping an eye on him wherever he went. So he had given up on ignoring him.

He was getting a bit tired of Keith so he went up to him. He set out to ask him if he had a problem, instead he asked, “Are you enjoying yourself?” The lighting was pretty bad, but Lance swore he could see him blushing. “I’m good,” he answered. “All here by yourself?” “I’m not by myself.” Smartass “You know what I mean.” It was silent after that for a bit. Not necessarily awkward, just silent. The people around them were laughing and dancing. They just stood there. Even though Lance always wanted something to do, he felt perfectly content just standing there. With Keith. Weird. Keith interrupted the silence. “You look good.” He said it softly, only audible to Lance. “I am good. Really enjoying myself.” Then it hit him. “Oh. Thanks. You look good too.” Now it was awkward. It didn’t last long, though. Because just then the windows shattered.

Chaos. Bullets flying. Lance had no idea what was going on. He knew everyone was on the floor trying to hide under tables. He knew he was supposed to find a guard and be led to the underground chambers. He was looking around, no guard in sight. He nudged Keith. “Can you see a guard?” Lance whispered. Keith felt tense, which made sense, they were being attacked. What didn’t make sense was his expression. Not shock, nor fear was written on his face, but guilt. “These are patriots.” Lance hadn’t notice the Illean emblem on their suits yet, but he was right. What were the patriots doing here? They usually supported their rule.

Their apparent leader spoke up, “This has gone on for too long. We cannot let it go on any further.” Wow, this guy should be a politician, no one had a clue what he was talking about. “The Selection is an Illean tradition. We cannot let it be compromised by Altea.” Aaahh. Patriots did hate Altea. A lot. Lance’s father stood up. He admired him for that. He was protected by a dozen guards, but it still takes courage to talk to a man holding a gun. “What are you talking about? We’re just trying to find a suitable wife for my son, none of the candidates are Altean. Please put down your weapon.” “We are not talking about the candidates.” Keith curled into himself. Lance tried to calm him down, so they could move towards one of the tables and hide there. “We, and many other Illeans, feel the ambassador of Altea has too much influence in the process.” Keith swallowed. Hard.

Lance’s father spoke up again, “Of course he has influence, he and the prince are close friends. This has nothing to do with politics.”. Lance looked at Keith and laid his hands on his shoulders to make them stop shaking. “Nothing is gonna happen to you. We’re gonna get you out of here.” There was no way to get to a guard, so they had to go to the chambers on their own. He looked back and nodded. Lance explained how he could get to the closest entrance. “Why can’t I just follow you?” he asked. “Because, you need to wait for my distraction and crawl there on your own.” Keith eyes widened. “What are you doing?” Lance grinned at him and winked. “Trust me.”

Lance stood up and walked to where his father was standing. Once he noticed that Lance was there his expression changed from annoyed to angered. “My father is right. I’m just trying to find true love. I have to admit that I don’t have a great judgement of character, so I asked my friends to help me. Just because he happens to be Altean, doesn’t mean there is an entire political scheme in play. This is an ancient Illean tradition and you’re disrespecting it.” The rest of the guests also started to understand that the patriots would never hurt them and stood up to support Lance. This was Keith’s chance. The speaker scoffed, “Really? Everyone who has been paying the slightest bit of attention knows you two don’t like each other at all.” Had it been that obvious. “What are you talking about? Just because you watch the Report, doesn’t mean you know exactly who I am.” “Stop joking around and tell us where he is. Nobody will get hurt if you hand him over.” Lance had no idea they had been this serious about it. He thought they just wanted to make a statement. Fortunately, Keith was already safe in the chambers. “Good luck finding him,” he grinned. “You think I care more about you than I care about my country? You’re naïve.”

He raised his gun and shot. All hell broke loose. Seconds after the first gunshot, blood shot out of the speaker’s chest. Lance was carried away. He felt a sharp pain in his leg. Though the pain was excruciating he was relieved it was just his leg.

In a couple of moments, he was laid upon a bed in the underground infirmary. In no-time his leg was bound and the doctors left him alone. He felt numb from the painkillers, so it took him a while before he noticed Keith sitting next to his bed. He looked extremely worried. “I may have miscalculated something,” Lance joked, but Keith didn’t laugh. “I’m so sorry. They’re right. I should go back to Altea.” “Yes, you should,” Lance replied. “But you’re not going to.”

“Lance-“ “Do you want to go back?” Lance interrupted. Keith considered for a while, “I’d like not to get kidnapped or shot.” “I’m sure they’re going to improve the security after this incident.” Keith was silent after that.

“Could you go check on the girls for me?” Lance asked. “Sure,” Keith said, but Lance couldn’t quite read his face. He stood up and left.

Not long after that Hunk entered. He was holding a tray with about twenty cupcakes. “Oh my god, I was so worried.” He put the tray on the nightstand and hugged him tight. “I’m fine. Do you know where my parents are?” “It’s still chaos out there, they’re trying to calm it down.” Lance felt a bit disappointed that they hadn’t come yet, but he was sure they were busy. “It’s crazy they actually shot you.”

“I think it was just meant to be a warning, but he hadn’t thought about the guards, otherwise he wouldn’t have shot my leg,” Lance said.

“Still, to shoot a member of the royal family, that’s too far.” It was. It was too far to infiltrate the castle. It was too far to threaten Keith. Then Keith walked in. He took a spot next to Hunk, but Hunk stood up and gave some lame excuse for leaving including words Lance didn’t know. “So?” Lance asked. “They’re fine.” Classic Keith. “Could you elaborate on that?” “Well, I think they’re fine. They got kind of mad at me when I walked in. Saying it’s my fault you got hurt. Nothing special.”

“Nothing special? They’ve always been treating you like that?” Lance was flabbergasted.

“Yeah, they think everything’s my fault. What are you so mad about? You used to think that as well.” He didn’t look fazed at all. This was normal to him. “But I never showed that, except to you. It was mutual.” Keith snickered. “The girls can’t do that to you. It’s not diplomatic.” “Calm down. It’s not even all of them.” Why did Keith let them walk over him? Was this Lance’s fault? Because he had done it before and now he was used to it. “Who is it then?” “I don’t know their names. Just let it go, Lance. I shouldn’t be involved in your choice in the first place.” Oh.

Lance considered that for a bit. Then he exclaimed, “I, Lance McClain Prince of Illea, appoint you as my high advisor. I shall trust you with my greatest dilemmas and troubles.” After finishing he added, “Now you should be involved in making this decision with me. So, describe the contesters who have accused you of causing my injuries.” Keith looked confused and a bit angry at the same time. “That’s the opposite of diplomatic, Lance. The patriots will be furious.” “They patriots think they deserve to have more influence in my life than my friends do. I don’t care what they think. The rest of the country loves you, they’ll be thrilled to hear.” “Friend?” Keith’s eyes were big and doe-like. That was the first time Lance had called him a friend. Lance smiled goofily, “Yeah, friend.”

Telling his parents about Keith’s new title went exactly the way Lance had expected it to go. His mother was proud that they had solved their feud and his father laughed. “That’s bold son, but I do think it would be good to show that you won’t bow down to a bit of violence.” Perfect. It went Perfect.

It would be announced the next Report. There was still a bit of time before that. The doctors had Lance go back to his room and he was looking through the files of the remaining girls. He held one up. “Was it this one?” he asked Keith. “It could be. Like I said, they all look the same to me and I wasn’t paying attention. I don’t want you to accidentally send the wrong girl home.”  “Are you saying I have a type?” Keith smiled shyly. “I guess.” “Well, we need to get to the bottom of this. Why don’t you go in again, now that you now their names,” Lance gave him a look. “and see who reacts the same way.” Keith shifted in his seat. “I don’t know, Lance. Wouldn’t it be weird for me to show up again when you’re fine?”  “They don’t know that, do they?” “You’re too focused on this. Maybe you should stop looking for the perfect queen and start looking for a girl you want to lead the country with for the rest of your life. You can teach someone to be a good leader, you can’t teach yourself to fall in love with one.” How dare he question my methods. Who does he think he is? My highest advisor? “I feel like I could fall in love with any of these girls, Keith. It would just need time. There are still so many I can’t really focus my feelings on any single one of them. That’s why we need to select the ones who are actually good people.” He rolled his eyes at me and said “Fine, I’ll go.” After a couple of minutes Hunk opened the door. “Hey, I heard you had been cleared. You good?”  “Yeah, I’m good. I can already walk four feet without crutches.” “Then why are you lying in bed all day? Why don’t you go see a movie with one of the girls? I thought you really liked Ezor, but you haven’t spent any alone time with her yet.” “And miss out on this perfect excuse to lay in bed all day? I thought not.” Hunk laughed at that, but his smile disappeared soon after.  “You know that if you want to call the entire thing off, you can right? No one would blame you. The Selection is not that important anymore.” He said.  “Why would I want to call it off? I love it.”  “You don’t seem to take it very seriously, if I’m being honest. Pidge agrees. Your mind seems to be…” he paused. He scratched the back of his head. “…elsewhere. Maybe you shouldn’t lead them on like this.” He added.  “I’m just taking my time. There have been Selections that lasted for years. I just want to make sure I make the right decision. And for the record, I just send Keith to tell me which girls have been behaving unqueenlike. I’m putting in maximum effort.” Lance felt offended. He was trying, couldn’t Hunk see that? “I will be announcing the Elite tonight, so I won’t lead anyone on. Happy?”  Hunk sighed. “Not at all, that’s not really what I meant and don’t rush yourself. You’ll figure it out on you own.” He left the room, leaving Lance wondering what he had actually meant to say.

Not for long, though, because Keith walked in again. “Why did Hunk just smile at me like that?” “Like what?”  “Like you were just talking about me?”  “We weren’t. We kind of had a disagreement. I think he was just being nice.”  “Yeah, must be it.” Keith sat down on a chair opposite to Lance’s bed. It was quiet for a bit until Lance asked “So, who can pack their bags?”  Keith smiled that little smile of his. Very cute, very dimplely. “I don’t want to influence your choice too much.”  “Cut the crap, we’ve been over this.” Keith begrudgedly handed him a list. Quite a long list. Lance looked up. “All of these?” Keith nodded. Some names shocked him, some didn’t. Others didn’t as much shock him, as disappoint him. He had really hoped Nyma didn’t belong to this list. But here name stood there, crawled in Keith’s crowlike writing “Nijnna”. He tried. A plus of the list being so damn long, was that he could actually be true to his promise to Hunk. Without the girls on this list, only five were left, excluding Pidge. She has to leave sometime. Maybe now is the best.

Lance hadn’t noticed he was crying until Keith spoke up. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked. Lance wiped away his tears. “No. Come here.” Keith shifted uncomfortably, but stood up eventually to sit down next to Lance. “It’s almost over.” Lance said. Keith raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” “Tonight I’ll announce the elite. Then I’m going to have to make a decision. Everything is happening so fast. It’s just difficult.” Keith tried to comfort him by stroking his back, but it didn’t really work. It only made him feel more tense, more helpless. “I’m sorry, this really isn’t your problem.” Lance tried to stand up, but Keith grabbed his wrist. “It’s fine, really. Just calm down.” Lance pulled him up and into a hug. “You’re great friend you know.” Lance sobbed. “I try.” Keith replied with sadness in his voice, probably pity. God, Lance hated being pitied by Keith.

The next day the there is much more breakfast left than usual. They hadn’t expected Lance to cut that many girls in one day. The food would go to shelters, but it still looked odd. Croissants meant for girls who left. Lance let out a breath of air through his nose. Keith looked at him questioning. “Remind me to send a couple of scones to Pidge.” Lance whispered. He rolled his eyes. “I’m not your personal assistant.” He announced at full volume. “You technically are.” Lance defended. “If that’s part of the job I quit.” Two girls giggled. Mindless. They didn’t know what they were talking about. They couldn’t know if it was funny or not. He almost felt like sending them away. Only three left. Easy. But it wasn’t. What if the girls are just nervous that they’re part of the last five, that’s why they feel nervous around him. They want to make an impression. But they haven’t, if they had, Lance could think about them as separate people, not ‘the girls’, ‘them’ and an occasional trait he assigned to them. He was in deep trouble. One girl less and he could call his future a multiple-choice question. Lance suddenly lost his appetite. He excused himself and went to his room.

He took his agenda and planned as many dates as possible. He must find his soulmate with one of these girls. He must develop a bond with one of them. And soon. His entire schedule was filled. After the others finished breakfast he would immediately go to Ezor and go horse-riding, then at 11 he would swim with Plaxum, then a picknick with Narti, so on, so on.

Ezor is such a free spirit. Sometimes their personalities clash, but when they match, they’re always in for a great time. He does feel like she makes them match. She’s in a competition, he’s the prize. He has that feeling with every girl. They’re trying to accomplish something by being the cutest, kindest, funniest or most diplomatic. Nothing is spontaneous. Nothing is romantic. Nothing is love.

After a day of hard work he jumps onto his bed.(he shouldn’t have to think about it as work) He closes his eyes for a bit and lets his thoughts wander. He makes mental notes of each date, each girl, each laugh, each awkward silence that accompanied said laugh. Maybe the selection wasn’t for him after all. Maybe he couldn’t fall in love with any of the girls after all. Maybe he send his soulmate home the first time. Maybe he wasn’t meant for love. He didn’t understand how so many monarchs had found their spouse this way. None of their marriages had ended in divorce. They all had their happy ever after. Then he remembered the story of his great-great-grandmother. She had found her husband in the translator that travelled with one of the contestants. She had found love where she hadn’t expected it. Lance had never liked that story. She had broken the rules. Now he liked it even less. He didn’t have a girl lurking in the shadows to break the rules with.

He did have an advisor he could trouble with his problems. He called for him and a couple of minutes later Keith knocked on the door. “Come in.” he yelled. No one came in. Lance groaned and stood up. He opened his door and Keith was standing in front of him with his arms folded. Lance sighed. “What’s your deal?” His eyebrows quirked up. “I’m allowed to be in your presence today? I thought I had been fired.”  “What on earth led you to that conclusion?”  “Just the fact that you’ve been ignoring me all day”  “I was busy doing Selection stuff. I’m sorry okay, it’s just my future.” Keith’s jaw clenched. “Why are you in a rush so suddenly, just yesterday you wanted to drag it out.” “I need time to fall in love, but I do think I need to spend that time effectively.” He swallowed. “You’re right. It’s an important decision to make. I’m sorry.” He shifted around a bit and asked “What did you call me in for?” Lance stepped aside to let him in. “Just, I don’t know. I just wanted to hear what you thought about some things.” “Like what?”  Lance sat down at his desk. “I think I might have romanticized the Selection too much.” Lance looks down when he says this. “It’s so much work. To get to know all of these girls, establishing bonds. A lot of emotional energy goes into it you know.” Lance watched Keith in the mirror. Keith said nothing. He looked like he wanted to say something. Lance stared at him for a second before asking “Do you have any input? Comments? Something you want to get off your chest?” Keith shook his head. “Common, you want to say something.” Keith grinned. “Nope, nothing.” He said. “Please….”Lance whined. He leaned back in his chair so far and bend his neck that way he could see Keith upside down, sitting on his bed.  “Enlighten me with your ideas.” He smiled.  “Maybe if forming the relationship itself, even the friendship, takes so much effort, it’s not really worth it. That was what I was thinking, but I may be a bit biased.” He admitted.  Lance did not like that answer. He didn’t entirely understand what the last part meant, but he didn’t like the first part. Of course relationships take effort. You need to get to know someone before you can decide if you like them or not. Idiot. Their friendship had taken effort as well, Lance told himself. He temporarily forgot that the effort he was thinking about was pretending to hate him. If Lance hadn’t wanted to be friends he wouldn’t have been. He forgot that they had gradually become friends against his wishes. It hadn’t taken effort at all.  “I disagree.” Keith stopped smiling. “That’s because you’re still living in that delusional dream of yours that one day you’ll find the “One” and she’s coincidentally part of this incredibly small group of girls. That’s not how real life goes. If she was one of the five girls left. You would’ve known.”  “If that’s true how come all my ancestors managed to do it?” Lance was getting heated. Keith was prepared, though. He had put a lot of brainpower into the subject at hand. “You think they were all soulmates? You think they didn’t just put up with each other? They were probably all just friends who led a country together and were a bit attracted to each other, so they fucked a couple of times to get a heir to put into their own miserable shoes once their lights went out. You hear all these nice fairy tale stories about the Selection, but it’s all bullshit.” Lance was shocked. Keith had never acted like this before. “Calm down, I know you don’t get it. You didn’t grow up with-“ Before Lance could finish Keith interrupted. “I get it alright, I just wasn’t brainwashed into believing this was the only way to fall in love. Just pick one and be done with it. Please, just…” He took a deep breath and continued. “Please stop dragging me into it, okay? I’m done with it.” He stood up and left. He didn’t slam the door. He just left.

Lance had just lost his high advisor. He wondered if it meant he had also lost his friend. He felt like crying. Ugly crying. He realized why he had called for Keith. He wanted to talk to him. Just talk to him. He had missed him today. And he missed him again. He couldn’t call for him again. That would be pathetic.

Just pick one and be done with it. To him they’re all the same. He didn’t know their names until a few days ago. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get this is his only chance at love. He can just go to some obscure country and pick girls up. It’s not like they know the little brother of the king of Altea in Swendway. Lance is known everywhere. He will never know if girls just want him for the crown. Not even with the Selection.

He still has time to figure it out, he still has time.

Four days passed. Twelve awkward meals. Four tense Reports. Zero time alone. Everyone knew something was up. Even the citizens. They tried to stay friendly during the Reports, but it had still seemed fake. They were back where they started and everyone had noticed. Hunk had asked Lance what had happened multiple times. He couldn’t give an answer. He didn’t know.

Lance had gone on many dates since then. However he couldn’t keep his attention with the girls. It was fruitless. He was leading them on and he knew it. He was leading himself on as well. Keith was right. He should just pick one and get on with it. He had always prided himself on being a hopeless romantic, but right now he actually felt the irony of that. He was hopeless. He would never find romance here.

He didn’t know if his depressing thought were caused by Keith or by Keith’s absence. He did know that he missed him. He missed Keith’s shy smile and awkward posture. He even missed it that he wasn’t yelling at him every three seconds. They had just been avoiding each other. Lance had decided that this was ridiculous and walked to Keith’s chamber. He usually never went there, but he knew that Keith wouldn’t respond to him asking for him. He was taking longer than he would if he hadn’t been dreading the conversation they would have.

Eventually he got there anyway. Excitement bubbled in his chest. He remembered that it was five a.m. and that bothering Keith at this moment was maybe not the best idea, but the door opened at the exact moment he had decided that is was a viable excuse not to talk to him. Keith powerwalked right into him and Lance stumbled backward a bit. He didn’t fall though. Keith’s face was twisted in confusion. “What. The. fuck…” he paused. “are you doing here.” Lance hadn’t seen him like this in a long time. His sweatpants and t-shirt, ready to hit the gym. He had forgotten about his five a.m. workouts. It had only been four days and had already forgotten about those? His eyes were still sleepy and his voice rasp. “Lance? What’s wrong?” Lance snapped out of his thought process. “I…I... I’m” he stuttered. Keith raised his eyebrows. “You’re what?” Lance considered what he was going to say for a bit then concluded. “I miss you. I want my friend back.” Keith stared at him. Expecting him to say more. So he continued. “I know you hate the Selection, but it’s almost over and I don’t want you to leave when it ends. I hate this. I hate not being your friend. I miss you and I don’t want you to be mad at me. You know I wanted you to agree with my decision, and I still do.” He waited for a reaction. The only one he got was a stern look from Keith. “I think you were right. I’m sorry. I think I can’t fall in love with any of these girls. I just can become good friends with them. Love is fake as you’d say.” That made him crack a bit. A small smile tucked at his mouth. “I think I want Ezor to be my wife. And I want you to be okay with that.” His face dropped immediately. “That makes zero sense Lance. If you’ve realized that the Selection is a scam why on earth would you marry anyway?” What was wrong with this guy? Lance did exactly as he’d said and he was still mad. “Because I can’t just cancel it? I need a friend to lead the country with to marry and as advised me; ‘Just pick one and be done with it.’” Keith rolled his eyes. “I also told you to keep me out of it. Why aren’t you following that piece of advice?” “You’re my friend, duh. I want you to approve of my important life decisions.” Keith bit his lip and averted his eyes. “Then why can’t I be that friend?” “What do you mean? Which friend?” Keith sighed and looked straight at Lance. “You seem to be very hung up on my opinion on certain decisions you make.” A pause. “So why can’t I be the friend you lead the country with?” Lance brain short circuited. He didn’t mean? No he couldn’t. He started saying things he couldn’t recall later. Things about Keith being ridiculous, the cultural importance of the Selection and other general dumb shit. He did remember Keith’s face. The only thing he didn’t want to remember. He had tried to hide his emotions, but it had been clear he was heartbroken. He had meant it that way. He didn’t look surprised, just truly miserable. Every inch of hope squeezed out of him. That’s how Lance felt as well. Not because he was in love with Keith, obviously not, but because he had lost all hope of Keith staying after the Selection was done. Keith had excused himself to go to the gym and he wasn’t present at any of the meals or the Report. Lance reckoned it was better that way. It was a lot to process. Keith was in love with him. Keith was going to hate him forever. Lance was going to lose the only friend he had ever had, who wasn’t part of the staff. Lance was going to puke on National television if they wouldn’t wrap it up soon. He didn’t puke on National television. It was a close call, though. When he was back at his room, he collapsed in on himself. The maids tended to his every need as he lay in bed. He wondered if Keith would hear about this. He wondered what he would think. He decided that theorizing wouldn’t make a difference. Apparently he had been wrong about Keith all along. A thought popped up. ‘What if he hears this and thinks I’m disgusted by him?” He couldn’t think that. He asked one of the maids to get Keith. To make sure he comes and if they could get some privacy. The look of confusion was telling. She also noticed the cold shoulder Keith had been giving to Lance the last couple of days. He would love to see her reaction to Keith. Keith would not be very pleased with Lance’s request. That was for sure. A couple of minutes later the maid came back with Keith. She almost pushed him inside and closed the door. He wouldn’t make eye contact with him. “What do you want?” “I told you already.” Lance sat up. “To be you friend.” Keith winced. Actually winced at the word ‘friend’. “I was just worried that you’d think I’d fallen ill because of you. That’s not the case.” Keith snickered. “Fallen ill. You’re really talking like that again and try to convince me this hasn’t got anything to do with this morning? It’s also kind of funny that you think I knew you were sick. Not everything revolves around you in this palace.” “I’m aware of that Keith. I don’t know what it revolves around for you, but it’s not your duties, apparently.” Lance said. “I thought you’d appreciate my absence and I seem to be right, because you’ve fallen ill even without a homo in your presence.” “Don’t call yourself that. That’s not why I puked…” “You actually puked?” Keith interrupted. “Yes.” Lance sighed. “Yes. And yes, maybe part of it was because of what you said, but it was just all piling onto each other. I just felt sick thinking about my future. And part of what made it sickening was because you wouldn’t be in it.” Keith was still mad. “We can’t be friends. You know that. We’ve just been fighting the last couple of days. All we do is argue. It’s my fault, I know that. So I feel like I should leave. Let you be. This was never going to work.” Neither of them knew what he was referring to. Friendship or something else. Keith turned around and opened the door. When the maid asked if he was allowed to leave, Lance just nodded as a single tear ran down his cheek.

Lance had spent the rest of his day trying to come up with a plan that would make Keith stay a little longer. To make him think things through. His mind came up empty. Keith didn’t owe him anything. He should be spending his time coming up with reasons to give the Report to Keith’s sudden departure. That was even more difficult. He didn’t want to tell them the real reason, that would be cruel. He decided he would just wing the Report. Something would come to him on the spot. Right now he just wallowed in self-pity and another emotion he could not place.

He had asked Hunk to bring him as much cupcakes as he could and to send one to Keith as well with ‘please stay’ written on it. He didn’t think it would be effective, but Keith would have something sweet to remember him by.

When Hunk arrived at his room, Lance laid cuddled up in bed. “Are you all right?” He asked as he slowly opened the door and let some light in. “Do I look all right to you?” he shouldn’t be snapping at Hunk, he had no fault in this. Hunk sat on his bed and handed him a cupcake. It had blue sprinkles on it. His favourite. He a smile tugged at his lips. “Thank you. You’re the best.” Hunk chuckled. “I know.” Hunk studied him for a minute and then asked cautiously. “What did you do?” Lance heart ached and no cupcake could fill the emptiness in his stomach. His throat closed up and tears streamed down his cheeks. “Nothing. Not enough. I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Fix what?”

“Our friendship. He told me…” Lance hesitated for a bit, but when Hunk raised his eyebrows he gave in. “He told me he was in love with me and now he’s convinced that we can’t be friends anymore. I think he thinks I hate him. I don’t” Hunk rubbed his back. “I agree with him.” How could he agree? It’s totally insane. “I don’t hate him. Of course I don’t!”

“I meant that I think you can’t be friends. I know you don’t hate him. I know you love him.”

“Yes, exactly. I love him. As a friend. That’s why we need to be friends again. I know we can be friends again.”

“Do you really feel the same way about him as you feel about me or Pidge?”

No. The short answer was no. The long answer was ‘No, because you were forced to be my friend.’ The real answer was ‘No and I’m stupid.’ After a short silence and a shorter evaluation of his emotions he answered. “Just because they’re different emotions doesn’t mean I’m in love with him.” Hunk sighed. “Why are you so hung up on him leaving? You were never this bad when Allura left. You were never this bad when I or Pidge left. And don’t come with ‘That was only temporarily’ because Allura has been quite long and so will Pidge be.” Lance stayed silent. “Why is Keith’s opinion so important all the time? Why don’t you listen to the views of the girls? They’re very intelligent.” Lance had thought about all of these points and could explain all of them pretty well in regards to his platonic relationship with Keith. “And lastly,” Hunk added. “Why did you always talk about how pretty Keith is and how you’re afraid the girls will find him more attractive than you?”

“Because I was worrying about literally everything and I can think my friend is good-looking.” Hunk was starting to become inpatient. “Oh wait, I forgot one. Why did you make out with Keith when you were black-out drunk?” Lance’s brain short-circuited again. “I did what?”

“Remember when you puked for over an hour because you had drunk so much?” “No. You’re lying. You have to be. I would never do that!”

Hunk’s expression showed pity. A lot of it. “Do you really want to marry any of these girls?”

Lance felt confused. He didn’t not want to marry any of them. No. he wanted to marry someone he loved and he just had always expected that person to be one of the contestants. Not a guy. Not Keith.

“You really have to figure this out for yourself. I don’t know if you want me here, or if you want me to leave. So if you need me just call.” He stood up and left.

Lance didn’t know what he felt. He just knew that the thought of him kissing Keith didn’t disgust him. It just surprised him. He didn’t know what to think about it. How to feel about it. It did explain a bit of Keith’s behaviour though. Why he had been mad after the kiss had apparently happened was still vague to him. Why he never talked about it again as well. He must have blown him off. That was the first moment a clear emotion rose out of his chest. Anger. At himself, to be precise. The only way he could explain it was that he was angry at himself for hurting Keith. He knew that wasn’t true. He knew that he was angry, because he had forgotten his first kiss and that he hadn���t kissed him more times. His melting pot emotion suddenly had some clarity, like he had looked at a picture the wrong way and only now saw the message.

He wanted to kiss him again.

He wanted to sleep in the same bed with him again.

He wanted to giggle with him and ask for his advice again.

He wanted to go on a date with him.

He was in love with him.

It made him feel anxious. However, it made him feel calm as well. A paradox of emotions swirled around in his chest. He tried the phrase out. “I’m in love with Keith.” It didn’t sound foreign to him. It belonged to his voice.

Lance sat up and stormed out of his room. It had taken only half a minute to get from his room to Keith’s. He didn’t bother knocking, he opened the door and began to proclaim his true love for Keith.

After his first sentence, however. He noticed the room was empty. Safe for a letter on his bed.

“Dear Lance,

I expected you to come and try to change my mind with your endless charm. I’m only a man, I knew you would win. So I decided to leave right now. I’m sorry. We’ll see each other again. I’m sure of it. As diplomats. Maybe friends one day. Once I’ve figured everything out. I’ll miss you.

Love,

Keith”

Empty. His stomach, his heart, his head. After seconds that felt like hours one word bubbled up. “No.” He was too late. Instead of preventing him to leave, he had to get him back now. A whole different task that would be.

He went back to his room and tried to come up with a plan. A few steps had to be included.

1. Get Keith back

2. Make sure Keith doesn’t murder him when he’s back

3. Cancel the Selection so Keith doesn’t murder him

He reckoned step one and two shouldn’t have to be too difficult. He could just write him a letter. He did feel bad about step 3. He couldn’t lead them on, but if it wouldn’t work out between Keith and Lance he would die alone.

He thought it through for a bit and decided it would be worth it. He also knew that Keith, and the country for that matter, would appreciate a big gesture. So that’s what he would give them.

Notes:

Thanks for reading. I'm planning on finishing this before the end of the year, because then I can pretend i didn't spend an entire year on this thing. Tell me what you think.

Lance wasn’t entirely sure if Keith would watch the Report. He did know that his family always did, so he’d hear it anyways.

Lance had written a whole speech, even though he knew he would throw it away the moment they were on air.

It felt like the morning lasted a lifetime. He needed to get this out. He knew that he had only realized his feelings a couple of hours ago, but he couldn’t contain them.

After the longest minutes of his life he was finally called to the studio. He hadn’t told anyone about his plan, not even Hunk, because he knew how easy it was to talk him out of it.

When he arrived he froze for a millisecond. The chair next to his would be empty. No one to calm him down. He had no idea he would miss Keith’s mere presence so much. Him sitting there saying nothing felt like a dream compared what he would have to endure to get it back.

He sat down and waited for the Report to start. As usual they first talked about his family and the girls a bit. He didn’t know what to say about the girls. He decided that positive and friendly things that could be interpreted as platonic was the best way to go.

Then the question finally came. “So, I’m sure we’ve all been wondering, where has the prince of Altea gone?”

Lance gathered all of his courage and started with something he was never supposed to say. “We’ve had a bit of a falling out. The pressure has been high on me and my high advisor the last couple of weeks, especially because of the Selection.” His parents shot him deadly looks. The presenter wanted to ask an additional question, but Lance beat him to it. “I do take a lot of the blame on my own shoulders, though. I haven’t been completely honest with him, or myself for that matter.” Everyone in the audience looked confused, even his parents, especially Hunk. “So, Keith, if you’re watching, please come back.” He paused. He felt his heart beat in his chest. He felt like puking. “I love you.” He chuckled. “You’re the winner.” Before other people could start asking questions he stood up and walked away.

Lance didn’t know what he had expected. Maybe for Keith to call immediately after the Report. Maybe for Keith to storm into his room and kiss him. None of those things happened. When he heard a knock on his door he still felt a spark of hope, even though he knew it was ridiculous. Hunk opened the door slowly. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good, because that was idiotic.”

“I know.”

Hunk sat down next to him like the day before. “You’re not okay.” He said. “I want to see Keith, I don’t want to have embarrassed myself for no reason.”

“Yeah I get that.”

Hunk stayed the rest of the midday and they talked about things other than Keith and the Selection. Lance didn’t know how he had managed to make sure no one else would enter, in any case, he was grateful for it. No media for a while. It was nice. He knew that he was probably supposed to get down for dinner, but he wanted nothing less.

Dinnertime rolled around and Hunk offered to just get something. It was a tempting offer, however, he did feel like had a duty to show his face after ruining his and his family’s reputation.

Luckily, Keith was adored by most of the country. Most people would love the idea of the Altean and Illean royal families having actual ties, so he didn’t really worry about riots caused by the cancellation of the Selection. Obviously security would have to be improved to prevent another attack, but they would eventually stop once they realized how great Keith was.

Everyone was surprised when he walked in. A weird tension hung in the air, he wondered what it was, until he saw him.

He sat in Lance’s chair. Next to Lance’s father. Lance felt like running away. Usually he liked the attention, but he felt like people were cautious of him. He had to give it to them, he had given them quite the curveball. He really didn’t know what to do, fortunately, Keith stood up and walked over to him.

“Can I speak to you?”

Lance nodded and followed him out of the dining hall.

The silence was uncomfortable. Keith looked a tiny bit mad.

“Spill.” Lance took a moment to comprehend what he meant. His words stumbled out of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry that it took so long for me to realize my… um… feelings for you.” Keith’s expression changed from irritated to confused.

“You mean you actually meant that. It wasn’t just a trick to get me back.” How could he even think that?

“Of course not!” Lance took Keith’s hands. “I love you, I really do. My mind was occupied with convincing itself that I wasn’t. That one of the girls was supposed to be my true love, you were right, the Selection is fake. But love sure isn’t.” Keith smiled at that. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, I deserve that title.”

Keith laughed. God, had Lance missed that laugh. Lance put a hand on Keith’s cheek and leaned forward. Their lips touched and Lance felt a rush of Déjà vu. Keith’s lips felt like home. This was the kiss he had always dreamt of as a kid. When they broke apart they both burst out in laughter. That had taken a while.

When both of them had recovered Lance took both of Keith’s hands and dropped onto one knee.

“Dear Keith, my highest advisor and friend, I love you with everything I am. I want to lead the country with you, and frankly, I don’t care what anyone else thinks about it. Do you want to marry me?”

Keith practically glowed and Lance’s insides glowed with him.

“Yes, yes I do.”

[sephborne]

Help a brotha out please.

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If your interested in helping a brother out, I would have more gratitude than naturally possible. Full transparency....... I'm 42, I'm a recovering heroin and cocaine addict. Sobriety does me well. I write , I write and I write. Songs, poems, short stories, and their not all bad. I have over a hundred pieces of work. Whether its song lyrics, or music melodies, a poem, a short story, or abstract paintings. I love this! I would love to be able to do it professionally as a job. I'm not looking to beco.e rich and famous. I'm just a regular Joe, working 50 to 60 hours a week I stalling garage doors out in the elements trying to make a living. Now I'm going to beg.....

Ive lived in squander, I've wallowed in self loathing for decades Now at 42, I have a lot of interesting stories to tell of my journey from a schitsofrenic mother, to being raped at age 8, to stealing shit, drug deals gone wrong, suicidal friends, overdosing, to blank stairs into the forest questioning good and evil, right and wrong, mass hysteria, mental illness,? Illnesses? And trying to find the best tree incase I did try to hang myself. Some wood say most definitely that I have a screw or two loose. Some would say crazy makes good art. Others would say he's a lost soul. I work 50 hours a week just to pay the bill's, just like you. Music equipment and studio time is expensive. They make it almost impossible, unless you have talent and LUCK! And a whole much of persistence. My songs sound simple right now but I can hear a whole music assembly behind them but I lack the equipment. My friend and guitar buddy, Jason told I could play my music and make a living. I believe in his optimistic thoughts, because he has a true live for music. He's turned me on to so many new artists I'd never heard of that have given me a boost of confidence to try to make this dream come alive. For me and for other struggling starving artist of every type and love. Theres an enormous amount of musicians turned down daily, or they're walking through life with regret for not fighting for their dream. I'm really trying to fight for mine! I practice as much as my broken body will let me. I write as much as my ADD and OCD mind will let me. I want to use the proceeds from any art that I make, to go to a new non-profit group that is passionate about helping artist with a step up. I would provide cheap studio time just because I love music and I want to help other artist by seeing me come from nothing to having my own songs recorded on to an Album and to have other pieces of art to be published! I love watching other people creat art. Please please please!!!! Be apart of this dream come true, this art, this dream to help other musicians believe in themselves......